Abandoned
by TheBigChillQueen
Summary: Dean has been missing for two months, making Sam worried to death.  But a shocking phone-call makes Sam and Bobby race to find the severely injured hunter.  Can they find Dean in time to save him? Or will they be too late? Hurt!Dean/Very Protective!Sam
1. Chapter 1

**I would die if I owned Sam and Dean Winchester o-o (mainly Sam XD)**

**But, sadly I do not...*lesigh***

**Anyways...hope you enjoy this! I'll do my best to keep it updated...but not guaranteeing it due to college life ^^;**

**This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"  
><strong>

**_Supernatural_: (C) Erik Kripke!**

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><p>It had been almost two months since Sam Winchester had gotten a decent night's sleep. He was beyond exausted. Bobby had tried to convince him to head back to the hotel to get some shut eye, that he'd call him with any updates, but Sam denied his offer and spent the next few weeks living off of two hour intervals of sleep and coffee. Besides, who could sleep, knowing that your brother had been kidnapped by a nasty bunch of demons during his turn on getting dinner. And all of them were severly wanting revenge on the one that had killed their leader, Azazel. Any moment Sam didn't spend desperately looking for clues and signs meant another moment of agonizing torture and horror he was sure the demons had been lashing out at Dean with. One thing was for sure though: those demons were going back to Hell once Sam was through with them. None would be spared.<p>

"Bobby...have you gotten anything yet?" asked a caffinated Sam for at least the thousandth time that day. By this time, Bobby was very close to tying him up and gagging him and throwing him into the next room so he could work. But he couldn't blame Sam for being deathly worried.

Dean was his big brother, as well as the only family he had left. It was Dean who had looked after Sam when they were just kids while their father, John, had went off hunting werewolves, shape-shifters, vampires, wendigos, rawheads, and basically any other monster and creature that was thought to only exist in nightmares. It was Dean who had protected Sam from those things, even taking nasty blows that were meant for him. It had also been Dean who had pulled Sam out of a burning house, not once, but twice. Sam wanted Dean to stop risking his life for him, that it would get him killed one of these days. But it was like telling a 20 year smoker that they had to quit immediately or they'd get lung cancer.

But Dean would never stop. It was his duty to protect his little brother. And there would be nothing or no one to make him think otherwise. Now because of his devotion to Sam, he had just a year to live after selling his soul to have the Crossroads Demon bring him back from the grasps of Death. So it was Sam's turn to save Dean. Right after he rescued him from those damn demons.

Bobby sighed, irritated. "Boy, I keep telling you, I will let you know if I find anything that will help us locate Dean! Now quit your bellyaching and keep researching."

Sam slammed the book he had been pouring over for the past three hours shut with so much force, it shook the entire table it had been sitting on.

"I'm _tired_ of researching, Bobby," he yelled, "I need to get out there and actually _look_ for Dean! Those demons probably have him bleeding his lungs out by now." Hot tears welled up in his eyes, making them sting. He wiped them away furiously. "He could be dead." Those last words were said in a breathless whisper.

Bobby's face softened and he stood up, approaching the young hunter and embracing him in a comforting hug. Sam returned the hug, sobbing into the crook of Bobby's neck.

"Don't worry, Sam. We _will_ find that idjit brother of yours and make sure those demons get what's coming for them. You can bet on it! But right now, till we get a lead, we have to prepare. These demons are nasty sons of bitches and we can't risk letting things get out of hand or anyone else getting hurt."

"I know, Bobby," Sam sniffed, "I'm sorry. I'm just really worried about Dean. His one year limit has just begun. This isn't fair to him. But you're right. We can't go in, guns blazing. We need to find out where they had taken him and come up with a plan."

"Now your making sense, boy." Bobby smiled, slowly pulling Sam back, clapping him on the shoulder. He gave him a slight shake before returning to his desk.

Sam took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and ran his fingers through his unwashed long hair. He smiled, remembering Dean's half-hearted threats about cutting it all off while he slept. Sam had pretending to be afraid before both broke out into guffaws that lasted for about ten minutes. It had been one of the few very rare moments when the brothers had no hunts and were able to relax, not having to worry about saving lives or burning any bones. Those were the times they cherished most.

His happy thoughts were abruptly interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He practically raced into the living room where he had thrown his phone carelessly onto the couch after spending long hours calling and calling Dean's phone, hoping for him to pick up, with no such luck. But now someone was calling him. He desperately hoped that it was Dean, that he was calling to tell him that he was 'fine' and to come pick his sorry ass up.

His heart hammered in his chest as his fingers fumbled to grasp the ringing device, his hopes sky rocketing upon seeing the caller ID read _'Dean'_.

"Dean?" he blurted the moment he hit the 'talk' button.

"Sorry, but Dean can't come to the phone right now," the heartless, mocking voice of a demon sneered from the other line, making Sam's heart plummet. He felt his anger rise. His body trembled.

"You sonovabitch," Sam growled, "what have you done to him?"

Bobby stood up, hearing this but Sam held up a hand, making him sit back down.  
>"Oh," the demon cackled, "you <em>really<em> don't wanna know. It's _bad."_

"And I bet you've enjoyed every damn moment," Sam's voice cracked as he tried to keep his rising rage under check.

"Nah...I wasn't even part of the torture party. I was on look-out duty, keeping an eye out in case you had decided to come to play cavalry."

Sam smirked. "Well, I'm not as dumb as you think."  
>"Yes...you proved me wrong. Maybe you will make a great leader for us. You definitely have the potential."<p>

Sam froze. He had forgotten about Azazel's plan on using him to lead an army of demons to wreak havoc upon the world. But he wasn't giving in so easily.

"Yeah, well forget it, fugly," Sam snapped, using Dean's nickname for most monsters. "But I'm not giving in so easily."

"Really...is that a fact?" the demon asked with fake curiosity.

"Yes." Sam spat.

"Well, will you feel the same way after your brother is dead?"

Sam's heart skipped two beats as he heard small crackles as the phone was being moved. The next sound he heard made him want to burst out into tears again.

"S...mmy..."

It was Dean's voice! Sam hadn't heard it for one and a half-months and he almost fainted on the spot upon hearing it. But the fact that it was basically a pained whimper caused Sam to just fall back onto the couch in shock. This time, Bobby got up and hurried into the room, a look of worry flashing across his grey-bearded face.

"Dean?" Sam asked, swallowing back a sob that lodged in his throat. "Dean! Are you alright?" _Stupid, of course he's not alright!_ "What have they done to you?" _Probably every damn torture method that ever existed, plus more._

"S'mmy...s'op talking," Dean's voice wheezed. "G'vn me head'che." Sam could practically hear blood gurgling with each breath his brother took.

"Sorry, man," Sam replied, more softly, but still keeping his voice strong. "Don't worry, Bobby and I will find you! And we'll be sure those freaks are sent back to where they belong!"

"..." No answer. Sam didn't like the sound of that.

"Dean? Dean! Are you there?" Sam gasped as he heard the familiar thud of a body being thrown to the ground. It was faint over the phone, but Sam still knew what it was. The Winchester's line of work was no walk in the park. His blood was boiling by now.

"Leave him alone, you bastard!" he screamed, making Bobby jump. "If you touch him again, I swear I'll..."

"Yeah, yeah," the demon cut him off sharply. "I heard your lame-ass threat. And truthfully, I'm not afraid. I say _bring it_."

"Alright, it's your funeral," Sam growled.

"And if you're hoping to rescue Dean, I'm afraid his time is just about up. You better hurry."

A dial tone sounded, signaling the end of the call. Sam let his phone drop out of his limp hands and onto his lap. His face was frozen in a mix of horror and anger. Bobby quickly moved to sit beside him.

"Sam, what's wrong? What did the demon say? What did Dean say?"

"He's hurt, Bobby," Sam said solemnly, "badly. Those bastards practically killed him."

Bobby's jaw dropped. "Sam...I-I'm sorry. I don't know what to say."

"It's okay, Bobby," Sam smiled, puzzling the older hunter. "Those demons aren't as smart as they thought they were."

"What do you mean?"

"They spent all this time trying to keep us off their trail, but apparently forgot that I could use the GPS in Dean's phone to track him down to where they're keeping him."

Bobby mirrored Sam's grin. "Those damn idjits."

"But we have to hurry. They said Dean's time is almost out."

"Working under pressure and under a time limit is what we're best at, Sam." Bobby winked at him. "Don't worry."

"Every time you tell me that, I worry more." Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair again. "But I have to be strong...for Dean. If the situation was reversed and _I _had been the one who was taken, Dean would literally be tearing the world apart, looking for me."

"I know son, and the devotion you two have each other is exactly what makes you boys the strongest hunters I have ever known _and_ worked with. Even more so than your father." Bobby patted his knee.

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam nodded, "and you know, you're the closest thing we've had to a father."

"Yeah, I know, kiddo. Now, let's stop having a chick-flick moment and go get that idjit brother of yours! He'd be really ticked to know that he died while we were having a heart-to-heart!"

Sam laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**I would die if I owned Sam and Dean Winchester o-o (mainly Sam XD)**

**But, sadly I do not...*lesigh***

**Anyways...hope you enjoy this! I'll do my best to keep it updated...but not guaranteeing it due to college life ^^;**

**This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"**

**Supernatural: (C) Erik Kripke!**

* * *

><p>Dean shuddered violently. But it wasn't from the cold dampness of the cramped, dark pit he was carelessly tossed into that resurfaced his hidden claustrophobia, or from the eeriness of it. No. He shuddered because of what the demons have been filling his mind with, which were terrible lies about his life and his family, more specifically his father and little brother. He had been told while he was being shredded and whipped and taunted that his father, John, had never loved him at all and that he had blamed him for being sent to Hell. The demons had also told Dean that Sammy hated his guts and that their mother and Jessica had died because of him. Dean was even told that he was utterly worthless and weak and couldn't amount to anything. Dean knew all of this was true. Or at least, that was what he was lead to believe.<p>

"Having fun yet, Dean-o?" hissed a sneering voice directly into his left ear.

He grunted through the tape that was plastered over his mouth and was stretched across his entire lower jaw from ear to ear, kept in place by a filthy rag that was tied tightly around his head. The rough rope that bound his hands behind his back were seriously chafing his wrists, leaving tiny rivulets of blood to slowly ooze from beneath them. More rope was tied across his chest and around the old chair he was sitting on, keeping him in a painfully upright position that made his cracked ribs protest. His ankles were tied to the legs of the chair.

There was no way he was going to escape, not with his amalgam of wounds and fifty plus demons stationed throughout wherever he was being held captive and tortured.

"You know, your brother says he's coming for you, but how certain can you be that his word is his honor?" A female demon with stringy black hair that matched her soulless eyes crouched down beside him, lustfully stroking the side of his face. Dean shuddered involuntarily at the contact, trying to hold back the tears that he's fought to hold in since the first lies were thrown at him.

"Sammy doesn't give a crap about you," continued the demon, now stroking his sweat and blood soaked short-cropped hair. "He hated you for taking him away from his normal , peaceful life at Standford and bringing him back into this nightmare. He'd rather see you dead!"

Dean couldn't hold back the tears anymore. They flowed from his eyes as this realization sunk in, his sobs being muffled by the gag. He found it more difficult to breathe now as he was on the verge of hyperventilating, the gag not helping at all.

"Awwww, shhhh...don't cry, Deanie," the demon said with false comfort, now crouching before him and taking his trembling face into her slender hands. "You won't have to worry about Sam being disappointed in you any longer. I can make all this pain go away in an instance."

The demon slowly reached into her boot and pulled out a knife with a gleaming five inch blade that was blood-stained, evidence that this particular demon had tortured more unfortunate souls long before she had set her sights on Dean. She then looked longfully at the blade before looking up at Dean's tearful eyes.

"Just a few precise cuts will end all of this. I promise you!" The demon whispered into Dean's ear, kissing it.

Dean was trembling violently by now. He didn't want to believe the harsh words the demon was telling him. Part of his mind was screaming at him, telling him that she was just being what all demons were: manipulative, untrustworthy and untruthful and that Sammy loved him a lot and would literally sacrifice his life for him. But the other part of his mind was soaking up every lie like a sponge in water. It crushed his hopes. It also made the fact that he had sold his soul for his baby brother seem worthless. Sam had said that he was trying everything he could to save his big brother from that horrible deal. But he was getting nowhere fast, and he would never.

He closed his eyes as more tears streamed out and let out a shaky, wheezy breath through his nose. He then looked over at the demon and nodded, giving her the permission to proceed. The demon smiled venomously and stood up, twirling the knife expertly in her hand before leaning down over Dean.

"You do know that there is no turning back at this point, right, Dean?"

Dean grunted through the gag again and nodded. A look of surrender flashed across his eyes. He was ready to let go of his Hellish life and leave behind the only family he had left and had fought tooth and nail for in order to protect him like he had most of his harsh life since he was basically four years old.

But what was the point now?

"Alright, Dean. If this is what you wish." The demon sneered, moving behind him.

She then set the tip of the blade on the flesh of Dean's left wrist, just below the rope. She then sliced across it.

Dean gasped at the sting as she cut deep. Soon, he felt something warm and liquid-like flow down his bound wrists and hands, dripping onto the cold concrete floor. His blood. His life. The demon's cold smirk widened as she did the same to his right wrist before standing back up and walking around to face Dean once more, holding the knife that was now coated in fresh blood.

Dean stared at the knife and the red substance that dripped slowly from it with eyes that were just beginning to blur. He began to feel lightheaded and weak.

"Just a few more minutes, Dean. Then you'll be free."

Dean felt his consciousness fade more swiftly now and more and more blood seeped from the cuts.

Just before he succumbed to the greedy darkness that clouded his mind, he had thought he heard a voice call out to him.

_"Sam? No. It's not Sam. He doesn't care about you. This is just a figment of your imagination. Starting to feel tired now...not feeling so well...going...sleep now"_

Then blackness.

"DEAN!"


	3. Chapter 3

_**I would die if I owned Sam and Dean Winchester o-o (mainly Sam XD)**_

**But, sadly I do not...*lesigh***

**Anyways...hope you enjoy this! I'll do my best to keep it updated...but not guaranteeing it due to college life ^^;**

**This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"**

**Supernatural: (C) Erik Kripke!**

**P.S. I like blonde Ruby SO much better than brunette Ruby!**

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><p>Sam pulled the Impala up against the side of the road, in front of a vast stretch of forest, got out and immediately headed to the trunk, opening it and pulling up the fake bottom, revealing the hidden cache of weapons for killing all sorts of monsters. Bobby got out next and stood beside him.<br>"You sure this is where Dean was taken?" he asked, uncertainly.  
>"The GPS on his phone says he's being held in an old mine that's been abandoned since it went dry in the late 1800s."<br>"And it seems the trail ends here, literally." Bobby indicated the faint trace of a dirt trail that was concealed by a blanket of leaves and twigs. "Looks like the rest of the way is on foot."  
>"Then what are we waiting for?" Sam asked, grabbing his Ithaca Pump shotgun and loading his pockets with rock-salt shells. He then picked up the Colt and placed it in the back waistband of his jeans, concealing it with his flannel and jacket. "Let's go."<br>Bobby grabbed a flashlight along with Dean's sawed-off shotgun and more shells and was about to follow Sam down the trail when a voice stopped them.  
>"Going in there is signing your death warrants."<p>

Sam instinctively pushed Bobby behind him as he turned around, holding his gun up, steady and straight at the supposed new threat. Standing behind them was a young female who looked about 21 and had long, golden blonde hair and steely blue eyes.  
>"Ruby!" Sam exclaimed, not in surprise, but with distaste. Since Elizabethville, Ohio, when she had reminded him that he needed her to help get Dean out the demon deal, Sam's trust in her is still ice thin.<br>"Hello, Sam!" Ruby said in a mockingly sweet voice. "Good to see you again!"  
>"What the Hell are you doing here?" Bobby asked, still mindful that she had helped him fix the Colt a few months back.<br>"I'm here to help you rescue Dean of course." Ruby replied, casually strolling towards them.  
>"Thanks," Sam hissed. "but I think we got it."<br>"Yeah, and like I said before, it's a suicide mission. You go in there, all guns blazing, you're going to wind up like your brother." Ruby replied.  
>"What are you talking about?" Bobby said.<p>

Ruby looked at them both like they had just sprouted a new head.  
>"You both really think that you're going up against a small group of demons?"<br>Bobby and Sam looked at each other, then back at her, shrugging. Ruby groaned and rolled her eyes.  
>"You two are such morons!" she yelled loudly, making them flinch. "It's fifty plus!"<br>"What?" Sam's eyes widened. "Fifty?"  
>"You deaf? Yes! Fifty! I'm pretty sure before you get a chance to even think about whipping out that special gun of yours, they'll be all over you like flies on a garbage heap!"<br>"Then what do you suppose we do?" Sam asked desperately.

Ruby calmly reached behind her. Sam moved further in front of Bobby as she pulled out a bone-handled knife with a blade that was inscribed with symbols from an unknown language.  
>"You let me take care of them. While I'm doing that, you boneheads sneak in and get short-bus out of there and run!"<br>"So, you're saying you're strong enough to take down an entire army of demons?" Bobby scoffed, earning him a glare from the blonde.  
>"You let me worry about the details and just do your part, okay, Gramps?"<br>Before Bobby could retort with a smart comeback, Sam interrupted, grabbing his sleeve.  
>"Come on, Bobby. Dean needs us!"<br>Bobby continued glaring at Ruby for a few seconds before turning back to Sam and nodding.  
>"Okay then," Ruby sighed, twirling the knife around, "showtime!"<p>

Before the two hunters knew it, the demon was gone. Sam shook his head and started down the trail.

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By the time Sam and Bobby reached the boarded up entrance to the mine (which now had a gaping hole in it, as if someone had smashed their way through it) dozens of bodies of demon hosts lay scattered around; on the ground, on the roof of the mine, even in the trees!  
>"Damn, she's good." Bobby mused.<br>Sam nodded in silent agreement. "C'mon. We have to find Dean!"

Ten minutes later, the two were deep within the mine, having searched every tunnel and every hidden passage that they came across, but found nothing, and Sam was getting extremely worried.  
>"What if we don't find him?" he asked, more to himself than to Bobby. "What if those bastards...killed him?"<br>"Kid, stop looking at the negative and think about the positive before I whack you upside the head!" Bobby berated him.  
>"Sorry, Bobby, it's just..."<p>

He was cut off by a middle-aged man suddenly coming out from a tunnel ten feet ahead of them. He turned his head to glare straight at them. Bobby raised both the shotgun and the flashlight. The bright beam revealed that the man had coal-black eyes.  
>"Well, well," the demon sneered, grinning evilly, "Sammy Winchester and Bobby Singer. So nice of you to come. We figured you'd come eventually."<br>"Where's my brother?" Sam cried, getting straight to the point.  
>"Who, Dean?" the demon asked in mock confusion. "Oh, him. Yes, well last I checked he was a bit tied up."<br>"If you've hurt him, I swear I'll send your ass back to hell!"  
>"So you've already said. Man, Sam, you need to work on your threats."<p>

Something clicked in Sam's mind.  
>"Wait...you were the demon from the phone call!"<br>"Thought you'd never figure it out, Sammy. You sure are slow."  
>"You have about five seconds to tell us where Dean is before we blast you full of rock-salt." Bobby growled.<br>"Oh please, rock-salt? Is that the best you've got?" The demon rolled his eyes.  
>Sam reached into his coat, unknowingly to the demon, who was being distracted by Bobby.<br>"It may not kill you right away, but it sure will hurt like Hell," Bobby continued, "and I'm sure you don't want that either."  
>"Then give me your best shot!" the demon spread his arms wide to express his fearlessness.<p>

By that time, Sam had pulled out his flask of Holy Water and opened it, splashing some onto the demon, who immediately began to smoke as it burned him.  
>"Aaagh! Why you..." The demon then charged at Sam, who countered by blasting his chest full of rock salt, knocking him to the ground.<br>"Bobby! Salt!" Sam hollered to the older hunter.  
>Bobby reached into his coat and pulled out a tin of salt and began pouring it in a circle around the demon. By the time he had recovered from the rock-salt, he was trapped within a ring of salt. He snarled at Sam and Bobby.<br>"This won't hold me forever you know. I will get out! And when I do, I will rip your lungs out!"  
>"Sorry, sugar, but you won't ever get the chance." a new voice said.<p>

Suddenly, a blade punctured through the back of the demon's throat, the tip poking out from the front. The inside of the demon's host body flashed a brilliant, fiery orange before he dropped to the ground, dead. Ruby was standing on the other side of the ring, holding her bloody knife.  
>"Thanks," Sam panted.<br>"Don't thank me," Ruby snapped, "your brother is down that way." She pointed down the tunnel that the demon had come from. "Hurry, his time is almost up."  
>Sam looked at Bobby, puzzled then back at her, but she had already disappeared.<br>The two hunters then raced down the hunter. The further they went, they began to hear another female voice more clearly.  
><em> "Sammy doesn't give a crap about you,"<em>

Sam's heart raced. What was that bitch telling his brother? He quickened his pace, Bobby having to do so as well to keep up with his long-legged friend.  
><em> "He hated you for taking him away from his normal , peaceful life at Standford and bringing him back into this nightmare. He'd rather see you dead!"<em>

"Nonono..." was Sam's mantra as he turned sharply around corners, trying to pinpoint where the voice was coming from. "That isn't true Dean! Don't listen to her!"  
>"Sam! Slow down, ya idjit! I can't keep up!" Bobby panted from a few feet behind him.<br>"Sorry, Bobby! I can't!" Sam said, trying to keep back tears. "I have to find Dean!"

_"Just a few precise cuts will end all of this. I promise you!"_  
>Sam reached behind him and grasped the Colt, getting ready to blow the demon bitch's head off once he found her.<br>"Please hang on, Dean! I'm coming!"  
><em> "You do know that there is no turning back at this point, right, Dean?"<em>  
>"Don't you dare touch him!" Sam growled loudly.<p>

The next step he took happened to be over a boarded up hole, and when all 190 pounds of him landed on those flimsy planks, they instantly gave way, sending him plummeting down into a deep dark pit.  
>"SAM!" Bobby screeched to a halt at the edge of the hole and shone his flashlight through it, trying to find the hunter. "Sam!"<br>No reply. Now he feared for both the Winchester boys.

************************************************************************************

Sam continued to fall for what felt like ages, when in reality it was about ten seconds. Then he landed hard on his back, knocking the air right out of him. He was sure he had cracked a few ribs as well.  
>"Ooooowwww..." he moaned, gingerly rolling over onto his side, then sitting up, shaking his head to clear the dizziness from it.<br>Sam looked up at the hole he had fallen through. It was about forty feet up and he could see the silhouette of Bobby peering down at him, waving around his flashlight to look for him.  
>"Sam! You alright?"<br>"Yeah!" Sam called back, waving a stiff arm at him. "I'm fine! You stay up there while I keep looking for Dean!"

Without waiting for a reply, Sam hurried through a door to the old room he was in, calling out to his brother, and immediately stopped once he entered another, much smaller room and was met with a gruesome site before him. Illuminated by faint trickles of sunlight that poked through the rat-made holes in the ceiling was a tortured, bloody Dean who was bound upright to a chair, his hands tied tightly behind him with scraggly, thin rope with more binding his ankles to the chair's front legs. Filthy duct tape and a tattered rag gagged him. His chin rested against his chest. He was unconscious.

And a bloody slit was sliced right into each of his wrists.  
>"DEAN!" Sam hollered in horror and fear.<br>A female demon with dark hair who wore a dark business suit that was standing before Dean, holding a knife dripping in blood, looked up at Sam and smirked icily.  
>"Oh, Sammy! So glad you could join us! I was just telling Dean-o here all about you!" <p>

* * *

><p><strong>Cliffhangers are evil, aren't they D3<strong>

**X3 Sowwy!** **More is coming soon! ;D**


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Sam and Dean Winchester, or _Supernatural_...but I do own seasons 1-5 and a few books of SPN X3**

**Anyways...hope you enjoy this!**

**This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"**

**Supernatural: (C) Erik Kripke!**

* * *

><p>Sam glared venomously at the demon who had severely hurt his big brother, taking the Colt out and aiming it precisely at her head.<p>

"You're gonna pay," he threatened in a voice that was pitched so low, he found it hard to believe it came from him. But he had to sound menacing to let the demon know he meant serious business.

The demon scoffed. "Awww, you look mad, Sammy."

"That's a damn understatement."

The demon looked down at the unconscious Dean and stroked his cheek with her long fingernail.

"Keep your filthy hands off of him!" Sam growled, turning the safety off.

"You should have seen your brother, Sammy," the demon continued to stroke Dean's face, "he looked so sad when I told him the truth about Johnny and you."

"You've been lying to him! Filling his head with nonsense!" Sam accused, raising his voice in not just volume, but in rage as well. A few snoozing bats that made the old mine home awoke and screeched as they fluttered out through the doorway and holes.

"Who says it's all lies? C'mon Sammy-"

"It's _Sam_," Sam snarled, "no one but Dean is allowed to call me 'Sammy'"

The demon rolled her eyes. "Fine, _Sam_. But think about it. When Dean had came to get you from school two years ago, just because your dear ol' daddy was missing, and then dragged you back into the job that made you leave in the first place, how did it make you feel? You were pretty upset, weren't you?"

Sam was silent. It was true that he was none too happy that he was basically forced back into the hunt when all he wanted was to live a normal, happy life that involved no monsters or killing. Then meeting Jessica was the highlight of those four normal years. He thought he was going to have it easy from then on; marrying the girl of his dreams, moving into a beautiful house in some quiet, peaceful neighborhood in Lawrence, Kansas, and having children, watching them grow up and raising kids of their own. The perfect, apple-pie life.

The demon took the moment of Sam's silence to continue. "Then when Jess was killed, you became more distraught. Soon, you were able to release all of that bottled up anger on Dean here in that asylum, telling him how you _really _felt, didn't you?"

Sam snapped out of his thoughts and narrowed his eyes. "How do you know about that?"

"I have my sources. You Winchesters aren't the only cunning ones out here. Now, didn't you also try to kill your brother?"

Sam looked down at his injured sibling, a lump forming in his throat. Yes, back when Ellicot had possessed him, Sam did attempt to shoot Dean with the gun he had given him. Good think it was unloaded. But the fact that he had, in fact, did almost murder Dean was too much to bare. He had lived with the guilt and nightmares of what could've happened if that gun had been loaded when he had pulled the trigger.

"Think about it Sam: Dean's one year is slowly coming to an end. Won't you be slightly relieved when he's gone?"

It was then when Sam realized what the demon was trying to do. She was trying to manipulate him into turning against his own brother! That bitch!

"Enough talk!" Sam suddenly yelled, his deep voice booming throughout the tunnels, making the demon jump. "I'm going to kill you here and now and get Dean out of here!"

"Aw, you sure you can, Sammy? By the looks of it, I'd say you're too late."

Sam spared another glance at his brother. His ashen face and dark cuts and bruises on his skin were hints of a Dean in serious peril. He knew he had to hurry and get him to the hospital ASAP!. So, his finger that was resting on the trigger pressed it in. A loud boom echoed throughout the room as a round raced down the long barrel of the Colt and lodged itself into the forehead of the demon, killing her on impact. She flashed a bright orange then fell into a heap on the ground.

Sam breathed heavily, walking over to stand over her and looking down at her motionless form.

"That was for every single torture you had put my brother through, bitch."

He then turned his attention back to said brother, immediately rushing over to him, placing the Colt back into the waistband of his jeans and crouching beside Dean. He ghosted his hands over the wounds on his brother's face and neck.

"Oh, Dean. I'm so, so sorry...I-I wish I could've gotten here sooner!" Sam's eyes welled up in tears, allowing them to fall freely as he began working on the knot of the handkerchief gag, struggling with it with trembling fingers. He finally got it undone and tossed it behind him before he carefully grabbed a corner of the tape and carefully pulled it off of Dean's jaw and mouth, wincing as it took some skin off with it, leaving a wide, red mark across the lower half of the older Winchester's face. Who knows how long those bastards had kept Dean bound and gagged like this.

Sam then moved behind Dean to untie his bonds. He took out his Bowie Knife and slashed through the ropes that kept Dean tied to the chair before going to the ones that bound his wrists. He felt sick at the site of the slashes on them. Sam glared with pure hatred at the demon who had inflicted those wounds before turning his attention back to the bonds. He sliced through them and gasped the moment more blood seemed to gush out even faster through the slits, no longer restricted by the tight bonds that had slowed the bleeding. Sam quickly tore off wide, long strips of fabric from his shirt and wrapped them tightly around Dean's wrists, tying the ends in a double knot to make sure that they were secure.

The younger Winchester then carefully maneuvered his brother so that he was in his arms; an arm across his back and the other under his knees. Dean's sweaty head rested against Sam's shoulder. Sam held both of Dean's wrists in his large hands, keeping a tight pressure on them to stem the blood flow as he made his way back to the hole he had fallen through. Dean wasn't moving and his chest was barely rising. And the sweat that coated his face and neck were sure signs of a very high fever. Sam was beginning to worry that the demon was right. What if he was too late? What if...

_"No...Dean is alive! He's not leaving me now. He can't!"_ Sam thought desperately as he reached the hole.

Bobby was still waiting at the edge, keeping an eye out for the young hunter. He gasped when he saw Sam step into the light, holding a severely injured and unconscious Dean.

"Sam! Oh, thank God. I heard a gun go off, I thought-"

"I'm fine, Bobby, but Dean isn't," Sam said through tears, "we need to get him out of here!"

"Okay, okay, son. Don't worry. We will! You wait there, I'm going to find something to get both ya idjits out of there!"

So, as Bobby hurried off, Sam sat in the cold dirt on his knees, resting Dean on them, holding his head up with one still trembling hand and keeping pressure on his wrists with the other.

"It's okay, big brother. We'll get you out of here and get you some help." Sam sniffed, holding Dean closer protectively. "I'm really sorry for not getting to you sooner. Please, don't leave me. I...I can't live without you."

As cheesy as that sounded, Sam knew it was the absolute truth. The fact that, due to Dean's deal with the Crossroads Demon, he had one year to live now made him feel terrified and even more protective of Dean than he ever was. He wanted to make sure that nothing was going to make Dean go ahead of schedule. And he was going to find a way to get Dean out of that deal, no matter what.

Bobby had found a stretcher that miners back then had used to carry the injured out of the mine and had secured rope to all four posts of it, using the rafters above to toss the ends of the ropes over it, turning it into a makeshift pulley. He had then lowered it down to the Winchesters, where Sam had set Dean on it gently, allowing Bobby to pull him up before he returned it back to get Sam out. A few minutes later, Sam was sitting in the back of the Impala with Dean laying across his lap while Bobby was speeding down the road at neck-break speed, not caring if he was running through red lights and stop signs.

As soon as they had reached the nearest hospital, Sam had raced out of the Impala before Bobby even put her in park, Dean in his arms, and burst through the emergency doors, bellowing for help. In a matter of seconds, nurses and doctors came hurrying towards him with a gurney. They took Dean from Sam's protective hold and laid him down on it before wheeling him to the ER. Sam tried to follow but a nurse who was about two feet shorter than him stood in his way.

"Please! I need to be with him! He's my big brother!" Sam tried to reason through tears. But the nurse stood her ground.

"I'm sorry sir, but you can't go back there now. We have some forms for you to fill out. I will notify you about your brother's condition as soon as I am able to."

Sam knew there was no way out of this, so he just pressed his lips into a firm line and nodded, wiping away his tears before he took the stack of papers the nurse gave him and returned to the waiting room where Bobby was sitting.

"Hey, kid, don't worry," he said, placing a comforting hand on the young Winchester's shoulder. "Your brother is strong. He'll be alright. I promise you."

Sam looked at Bobby with a small smile. "Thanks, Bobby."

"Your welcome, now, how are you doing?"  
>Sam looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"<p>

"Well, I'm damn sure that demon said some pretty nasty things to you. They usually do."

Sam chuckled softly. "Well, she tried."

Bobby raised his bushy eyebrows. "What happened?"

"I shot her." Sam replied simply.

Bobby smiled and ruffled Sam's hair. "That's my boy. Here, I'll help fill those out."

The two sat in silence from then on, filling out the forms with some false information since Dean was still wanted by the FBI for the murders he was framed for by a shape-shifter who had posed as him in St. Louis. Sam was taking no chances of letting anymore harm come to his brother. Not while he was around.


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own Sam and Dean Winchester, or Supernatural...but I do own seasons 1-5 and a few books of SPN X3**

**Anyways...hope you enjoy this!**

**This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"**

**Supernatural: (C) Erik Kripke!**

**P.S. I think I killed my brain with all the medical terminology X.x  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Three hours. That's how long Sam and Bobby have been sitting in that damn waiting room, anxiously wanting to know Dean's diagnosis, but none of the nurses or doctors who had come into the room were there for them. Sam had also pressed his luck by asking the receptionist over five times about his brother, and by the fifth time, she threatened to throw them out, even though Sam silently dare her to do so. There was no way, after all that had happened, that he was gonna be separated from his big brother.<p>

Sam kept on standing, pacing around a few times, then sitting back down, resting his elbows on his knees, propping his chin on his trembling fists that he had clenched so tight, the knuckles were white. He stood up again and resumed pacing.

"Boy, if you don't sit down and relax, I'll knock you out and tie you to the chair," Bobby said lightly, trying to ease the aura of tension that surrounded the 24 year old.

Sam ignored him and continued pacing, making the older hunter sigh and shake his head, knowing there was no way to get the poor kid to calm down at this point.

Sam's mind was racing with worried thoughts about Dean that made him even more tense and angsty.

He then looked up, feeling small eyes on him and his heart warmed a bit as he saw a young girl of about 6 years in age looking up at him with huge, baby blue eyes that reminded him of the ones he'd see on a tiny kitten. The young girl wore a pink sun-dress with matching sandals and had long black hair that cascaded down her back; a straight fringe covering her small forehead and thin eyebrows. She was cradling her right arm, which was in a makeshift sling, telling Sam that it was obviously broken if not sprained. The girl also looked like she had been crying, for her tiny nose and cheeks were a bit rosy and her eyes looked puffy. She clutched a pink, fluffy cat toy tightly in her arms.

Sam smiled softly at her and felt his heart warm even more as she returned it with a small smile of her own and then waving at him. The 18 year old male teen who had been sitting beside her, reading a magazine, noticed the movement and looked up at Sam.

"I'm sorry," Sam quickly apologized, realizing that he probably looked like some kind of predator to the teen.

"Oh, it's no problem dude, no need to apologize," the boy replied, smiling at him. He placed the magazine down and put a gentle arm around the girl's shoulder. "My name is Tristan, and this is my little sis, Lydia."

Sam knelt down carefully in front of the young girl, trying not to scare her and said, "Hey, Lydia. My name is Sam. It's a pleasure to meet you. How old are you?"

Lydia blushed slightly and giggled, covering the lower half of her face with the cat's head.

Tristan chuckled and tickled her side, making her giggle even more. "Awe, c'mon, Lyddie, you're not shy."

"I'm 6 years old," Lydia replied in a tiny voice that suited her adorably.

"Wow, that's cool. You have to be the cutest 6 year old I ever seen," Sam commented truthfully, though he rarely saw any kids during his line of work. But out of the ones he had seen, Lydia was definitely the most adorable.

Sam was not only talking to her to cheer her up from her injury, but also to keep his mind off of the fact that his brother may not make it through whatever surgeries he had to go through to try and fix the damage those sonovabitches inflicted on him. Sam couldn't pray any harder than he already had been for good news. But right now, the brave little girl before him was doing the trick of keeping his emotions in check and his mind straight.

Sam looked down at the cat toy and stroked its head. "She's pretty. Does she have a name?"

"Sabrina," Lydia answered, hugging the toy even more, kissing the top of its head, "Sabrina Marie."

"That's a pretty name. Lydia is even prettier." Sam and Tristan chuckled as the girl hid her face as she blushed even more.

"So, Sam," Tristan said, "if you don't mind me asking, what brings you here?"

Sam's smile instantly faded as the reason reared its ugly head once more. Tristan mentally kicked himself at the sudden change in emotion that showed on the older boy's face.

"Aw, y'know, you don't have to...I didn't-"

"No, it's...it's okay." Sam took a deep breath, holding back his tears and swallowing the lump in his throat. "Um...m-my big brother...he was out driving ...and then his Impala was hit head on by a drunk driver."

Sam had to lie. There'd be no way in Hell that Tristan would believe a farfetched story about demons kidnapping Dean and torturing him practically to death. Plus, even if he did tell the truth, he'd only succeed in scaring poor Lydia half to death and then being taken to a psychiatric ward. Lying was the only way he and Dean could get people to trust them, which was ironic in it's own twisted way.

"Oh, dude. I'm really sorry about your brother," Tristan set a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder. "The bastard who ran into him should be here, not him."

Sam smiled. "Don't worry. He was killed instantly by the impact. Besides," he added with a small laugh, "if he had survived, I would've killed him myself."

Tristan laughed and shook his head. "Right on, bro."

"So, um, what happened to Lydia?" Sam cleared his throat, hoping he wasn't being rude.

"She was roller-skating with her friends while I was baby-sitting her. She tripped over a big crack in the sidewalk and fell. She scared me half to death, though. She was screaming and crying so loud, I thought her injury was more severe than it really was."

"I hear you. Older siblings tend to be a bit over-protective of their younger siblings," Sam said from experience, shaking his head fondly as he remembered a time that Dean freaked out over a 3-inch cut Sam had got on his cheek from shaving. Dean had thought Sam had gotten into a fight and was about to go out to beat the poor bastard who dared hurt his little brother before Sam was finally able to convince him that it was from a razor and that it wasn't that deep.

"Yeah, I'm guilty about that, but I'm not ashamed," Tristan smiled and pulled Lydia closer to him, kissing the top of her head. "She's like a daughter to me. Since our father was a bastard who practically abused her, I took over the parenting role since our mother is too busy working two jobs to stay home and play with her."

"Dean basically raised me since I was 6-months old," Sam said, absentmindedly stroking Sabrina's tail. "Our mother died in a house fire and our father worked late. So Dean is like a combination of a mother, a father, and a big brother to me. Plus a best friend."

"I'm happy that you're that close to him, Sam. I really am."

"Thanks."

Suddenly, a nurse came out, making both Tristan and Sam look up at her hopefully.

"Lydia Rivers?"

Tristan stood up with Lydia and Sam.

"Hey, man, I really wish you and your brother luck," Tristan said, shaking Sam's hand. "You two have my prayers."

"Thanks, Tristan. I hope that Lydia will be alright as well." Sam nodded his thanks and smiled down at the little girl, waving to her as the nurse took her and her brother to the examination room. "Bye Lydia."

Lydia smiled a bit bigger than last time and waved back before going out of site.

Sam sighed, then began to feel a pane of sadness once more. He turned back and was startled to find Bobby looking at him, tears in his eyes and a smile that was almost hidden by his bushy mustache and beard.

"Wh-what?" Sam quickly wiped away the tears in his own eyes and sat back down beside the older man.

"Just watching you with that little girl, kid. It was sweet. Ya know, you're gonna make a hell of a daddy someday."

Sam smirked, blushing. He knew that he may never have the chance of settling down with another girl and raising a family, not since Jessica had passed on. Plus, it may be too dangerous. The monsters he's been killing may go after his family and do the same. It was a bit scary sometimes, knowing that anytime he and Dean split up on missions, it may be for the last time.

Just then, another nurse, one of whom Sam was sure Dean would definitely be hitting on, entered and called out for the family of Dean Simmons (the alias Sam was positive his big brother would use if the situation was reversed.)

Sam and Bobby jumped to their feet so fast, it startled the nurse who was looking around the waiting room for them. She led them into an office where a doctor was waiting for them, looking over some X-Rays attached to a light-board on the wall. The nurse left, closing the door.

"How's my brother?" Sam immediately got down to business.

The doctor was startled by the sudden question, he remained silent before looking down at the ground then into Sam's distraught, hazel-green eyes with a pitiful expression.

_"Oh no...nononononono..." _ Sam thought fearfully, his chest feeling as if he had a hummingbird inside of it.

"Well," Bobby snapped at him, "is he okay?"

"I-I'm afraid that you're brother...he..." the doctor paused to take a deep breath and pointed over to the several X-Rays on the board, motioning towards each one as he named off each injury. "Your brother had several bruises found on his liver and kidneys, which could only come from an extreme blunt force. We managed to stop the internal bleeding that came from his stomach, though.

But I'm afraid that the lacerations on his arms and entire torso got infected, causing him to get an extremely high fever. Plus, the deep slashes on his wrist caused a tremendous amount of blood loss, which called for an immediate blood transfusion. But the injury that worries me the most is the intracranial hemorrhage we found while doing a CT scan. It put him into a coma."

The doctor paused again for a breath. "We're doing out best at keeping your brother alive by performing an anendotracheal intubation on him, since he can't breathe on his own at the moment. We're also working on keeping his blood pressure low to avoid excessive hypotension, while keeping a close eye on his vitals, keeping them as stabilized as we can. We are currently maintaining euvolemia by using normotonic fluids to control brain perfusion without increasing the risk for a brain edema. Now, you said your brother was in a bar fight?" Another lie Sam had to come with on the spur of the moment.

Sam was too far into shock, hearing about the overwhelming severity of Dean's condition, that Bobby had to answer for him.

"Yes, but it wasn't his fault to begin with. He was just playing a friendly game of pool and the sucker he beat just happened to be a big sore loser."

"So Dean has no history of suicidal attempts?"

This snapped Sam out his shock. He glared at the doctor. "Why the hell would Dean want to kill himself?"

The doctor glared right back. "Sir, please control your temper. It is medical procedure that I ask any of the necessary questions. It may help us determine what had happened to your brother and help him."

Sam clenched and unclenched his shaking fists, trying to control the urge to punch the doctor for accusing Dean of cutting his own wrists open.

"Dean is not and never was suicidal," Bobby once more spoke for Sam, "the damn idjit who beat the hell out of him inflicted those wounds.

"Okay, but it seems like he also has bruising on his arms, chest, wrists, and ankles that could only be made by restraints," the doctor said.

"The bastard kidnapped him and bound and gagged Dean before he beat him," Sam replied in a low, deep voice. "It was a good thing Bobby and I found him in time before he could do anything worse."

The doctor nodded in agreement. "Well, it is a good thing that you did, but..." He paused yet again, which was beginning to irritate Sam.

"But what?"

"In order to repair the structure causing the bleeding in his brain, we had to operate. But that could lead to severe side effects once he recuperates from it."

"Such as?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Hemorrhagic stroke, permanent loss of any brain function, plus any other ones caused by medication used to treat the hemorrhage."

Sam's knees decided then to give out.

"Whoa!" Bobby and the doctor both caught him under the arms and sat him in a chair.

"You alright, Sam?" Bobby asked in concern.

"Dean..." Sam was now crying. "H-he's still gonna die, Bobby!"

"Sam, your brother isn't going to die. We're doing our best not to let that happen. We won't let it happen."

"But you just said yourself that the side effects could still kill him!" Sam lashed out angrily with a raised voice that Bobby was sure could be heard from the waiting room.

"I said _could_, Sam. Your brother may be one of the few lucky ones who don't have any side effects. Just give it time."

"Time? _Give it time_?" Sam was beyond ticked as he found the strength to get up on his feet and rise to his full height and tower over the doctor, who backed away slightly. "Just so you know, that freak had my brother for over _a month_! I spent all that time worrying to _death_ about him and trying to find him. And look what came of it!"

The doctor was now gaping at Sam, taken by surprise by his sudden outburst. He finally recomposed himself and cleared his throat.

"Well...um, i-if you want to see your brother, he's in room 600 but-"

Before he could finish, Sam was out the door in a flash.

The doctor turned to Bobby with wide eyes. Bobby smiled.

"Dean is all Sam has left of his family and vice versa," he explained, "both are willing to sacrifice themselves for the other. So believe me when I say that there's no force in the galaxy that will be able to pull those two apart, not even some blasted hemorrhage."

Bobby then left to join Sam, leaving the doctor speechless.

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><p><strong>X3 I just adore ProtectiveCaring Sammy =^3^=**


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own Sam and Dean Winchester, or _Supernatural_...but someday...I WILL MEET JARED, JENSEN, AND MISHA! ;) *I hope 8(*  
>Anyways...hope you enjoy this!<strong>

**This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"**

**Supernatural: (C) Erik Kripke!**

* * *

><p>Sam had just reached Dean's hospital room, which turned out to be one of the ICU ones, just as a nurse was heading out with a clipboard which most likely held information on Dean's progress from her current check-up, which was exactly what Sam wanted to see. So he stood right in front of her, not letting her by till he got what he wanted. With her being a foot shorter than him and a lot less fit than him, it was fairly easy to intimidate her.<p>

"How's he doing," he asked immediately. "Has anything changed?"

"I'm sorry sir, but I am not authorized to share information with people other than-"  
>"I'm his brother!" Sam exclaimed angrily, startling her.<p>

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir. Um, well I'm afraid to inform you that your brother's condition has not improved. I'm also sorry to say that it shows no signs that it ever will."

"No...no, y-you're wrong!" Sam's heart skipped a beat. "He...he _will _get better! He has to! You're the damn nurse! It's your job to make sure he _doesn't_ die, isn't it?"

Without waiting for her reply, Sam shoved past her and into the room, stopping once he saw just how bad Dean looked. Dean's skin was a deadly shade of grey; his freckles now looking like dark grey spots on his face. His usually spiky, dark blonde hair was lying flat on his head, some of it lying across his sweat-soaked forehead. A long tube was protruding from his mouth from where it provided the much need oxygen into his lungs.

Both his wrists were wrapped tightly in bandages, as well as his head. The lacerations on him had been cleaned and stitched up neatly. But Sam's worries were far from gone. He remembered the doctor saying that Dean already had a very high fever from the lacerations getting infected and that his immune system was battling it the best it could, not to mention the intracranial hemorrhage that could lead to a possible brain edema. An IV that fed fluids into his dehydrated body were attached to each hand. A needle that was sticking out of the crook of Dean's right elbow was taped in place to keep it still, attached to a long, thin tube that was siphoning blood into his circulatory system. Sam checked the bag the blood was coming from to make sure it was the same type as his brother's. It was. Now he wouldn't have to kill any of the doctors. Yet.

Sam's eyes welled up with tears as he pulled a cushioned-chair up as close as possible next to his big brother's hospital bed and sat down, his back facing the door. He gently grasped Dean's right hand, careful as to not disturb the IV in it. He rubbed small circles along the knuckles with his thumb to offer some sort of comfort the best that he could.

"Dean...I'm so, so sorry," he apologized quietly, for about the millionth time since he'd rescued his brother. "I should've spent every waking second looking for you! I shouldn't have let you out of my sight; if I hadn't...you'd be alive and well, possibly bitching about my long, girly hair or choice of food, or something stupid like that," Sam said with a small laugh, even though tears spilled from his hazel eyes. "But don't worry. I ganked the bitch who did this to you. She's back in Hell, right where she belongs. I just need to know one thing, bro: Why were the demons so intent on revenge? I mean, sure they were with Azazel all the way before being released on the world. But they wouldn't they have decided to go freestyle once those gates were opened, like the Sins?. What is the reason for their grudge against you?" Sam shook his head. "Whatever. Doesn't matter. All that does matter now is that you get better soon. I know how much you hate hospitals, but the good news is they have hot nurses. Really hot nurses. Just your type too: busty and blonde."

Sam knew that remark wouldn't get a reaction anytime soon from Dean, though true it may be. He was in a coma, and he knew that there were slim chances of people waking up from them. Some of them never did. But talking to the person who's raised him for basically all his life made him feel a bit relaxed and gave him a new hope. Dean had been in a coma before, and he had woken up from it. Then again, he had help from a Reaper named Tessa and even Azazel himself. And John as well.

Sam shoved all those thoughts aside and focused on Dean only. He gingerly brushed his hair from his forehead, wincing as he felt just how hot Dean really was.

"C'mon, Dean. You have to get better. You can't leave me. I almost lost you once. Please don't let me go through that again. I'm not sure if I can handle it this time."

Sam was now now, his hands trembling.

"Sorry!" he gasped, realizing that he was squeezing Dean's hand tightly, almost dislodging the IV. He gently set it back down on the bed and instead put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

Sam wiped away the tears and yawned. He glanced at his watch, seeing that it was about ten at night, and then realized that he hadn't had a decent night's sleep since...well...since before Dean was kidnapped just a little over two months ago. But he didn't want to go to sleep. He wanted to keep alert and awake, just in case anymore demons came after his brother. He knew he couldn't salt the windows or doors or draw a Devil's Trap without arising suspicious questions from the hospital staff. So Sam had to do the defending himself, which he wasn't complaining about. He wasn't going to let Dean go to Hell ahead of schedule...or ever. He was already dead set on that goal.

So, there he sat, close by Dean's bed, his hand on his shoulder and trying his best to keep his weary senses alert. But five minutes later, he was out; having lost his battle with fatigue, his head lying on his arm and his long hair covering his eyes. A puddle of drool was slowly forming under his slightly open mouth.

The sound of the window being broken was enough to awaken Sam from his slumber. He quickly shot to his feet and positioned himself in a protective stance between his comatose sibling and the new threat that dare intrude on them. No matter, Sam was going to make sure that it would be the last mistake it ever made. No one messes with his big brother while he was around. He glared irately at the silhouette standing in the moonlight that shone brightly through the now smashed window, the white, silky curtains billowing in the gentle, warm breeze.

Because of his brain still waking up and processing the sudden break-in, Sam failed to immediately recognize just who the intruder was.

"Whoa, easy there, Tiger. No need to get up on my behalf."

It was then Sam knew who it was,

"Ruby."

Sam's vision was now accustomed to the dark, so now he could make out the demon's host body's long blonde hair and high-heeled boots, Her blue eyes flashed black for a second before returning to normal.

"Hello, Sam."

Sam relaxed his pose a hair, but still remained where he stood.

"What are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to see how Dean-o was doing," Ruby shrugged, calmly strolling across the room, her boots clacking softly against the linoleum.

"And you couldn't have used the door?"  
>"Uh, visiting hours was four hours ago. No way they would let me in now. Besides, this way was more fun." Ruby grinned. Sam rolled his eyes.<p>

"Also," Ruby continued, "I know you want some answers."

"Answers?" Sam was confused.

Ruby sighed. "You know. Why the demons kidnapped Dean in the first place. Why they tormented him."

Sam looked down at Dean then back up at Ruby.

"Alright. Then start talking."

"It's fairly simple, Sammy-"

"Sam."

"Sorry...forgot. Dean's the only one who can call you _'Sammy'_. Anyways, I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet. It was a rather easy motive."

"Enough stalling! You either tell me what you know, or..." Sam held up the Colt he had managed to sneak into the hospital and aimed it at Ruby's chest. "I send you straight back to Hell."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "As you may know, the demons that had kidnapped Dean were followers of Azazel. But they were more than that. They were more like his fan-club really, basically his yes-men and were extremely loyal. So loyal, they'd be willing to throw themselves in the line of fire for him. They were all for wreaking havoc on the world once he got his alpha leader to head his army. But once those gates opened and they were released, they had witnessed Dean kill Azazel with that little pistol of yours.

" And boy were they ticked. Sure, they could've just finished him off then and there, but they had to come up with a plan first. So, while you were off chasing the Seven Deadly Sins and Changlings, they were working on revenge. Soon, they had a devious, horrible plan that was sure going to bring a lot of pain and suffering to Dean, which it basically had, as you can clearly see. They soon got the chance to put their plan into motion when they saw Dean alone, heading out of a diner. They made sure it would take you forever to find him by moving him around from place to place so even when you did find him, he'd be gone again."

"Apparently they forgot about GPS," Sam growled, "And when I did find him, he was nearly dead! They had _slit_ his wrists!"

"Which was exactly what demons wanted. But they didn't factor in me. With my skills, I was able to keep tabs on them and track their every move. Besides, it's a good thing I helped, 'cause if I didn't-"

"I get it," Sam held up a hand, "Dean wouldn't be here. How did you find all this out, anyways?"

Ruby smiled mischievously and looked up at him. "Got it from one of the demons guarding the outside of the mine...right before I tore his jugular out."

Sam winced slightly. "Sorry I asked. Is there anything you can do to help him? There may be more demons that could still be after him. I don't want to see him hurt anymore than he already is. He's...dying, Ruby."

Sam wasn't sure if it was a trick of the moonlight or his imagination, but he swore that Ruby's eyes softened and she became silent for a minute, after which she spoke up. "I have a few hex bags I can give you. They'll be able to do the job at keeping Dean hidden from demon radar."

With that, she produced four small bags tied with black string from a pouch she wore around her waste and tossed them to Sam, who caught them with ease.

"Thanks, Ruby. Really."

"No problem, Sam. And...if you need anything else, just summon me and I'll do my best to help." Ruby smiled softly.

"I guess asking for you to heal Dean would be too much?" Sam asked, half-jokingly.

Ruby chuckled. "Sorry, Sam. But I can't work miracles. But believe me when I say that if I could, I would heal Dean a hundred-ten percent."

Sam laughed and shook his head, looking down at the ground. When he looked back up, Ruby was gone. And somehow, the window was back in one piece, no sign that it was shattered only moments before.

_"She's a demon,"_ Sam reminded himself, _"Who knows all she can do."_

Sam then set about, hiding the hex bags around the room before returning to his guard post. This time, he was wide awake, and he was going to be for awhile.

* * *

><p><strong>FYI: Sometimes I tend to repeat myself and mix some stuff up while writing...so please let me know if I had somewhere so I can fix it ^^;<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Wish I had beta...kinda getting tired of my stories not being indented like I want them to be or letting me use certain characters...**

**I do not own Sam and Dean Winchester, or _Supernatural_...how I dream to meet J2, though *_***  
><strong>Anyways...hope you enjoy this!<strong>

**This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"**

**_Supernatural_: (C) Erik Kripke!**

* * *

><p>Two days later, and Sam was <em>still<em> waiting. He was getting increasingly apprehensive now. What if the doctors were right? What if Dean didn't wake up this time? Sam immediately shoved that thought out of his mind, telling himself that Dean was strong, the strongest person he has ever known. He basically threatened to toss any doctor or nurse out of the window if they mentioned how critical Dean's injuries were again or whether he'd make it through the night or not. And it was a pretty long way down, too. They were on the sixth floor. Ruby's words from two nights ago still rang fresh in his mind. If those demons were so close to Azazel, then they wouldn't stop at nothing to get to the one responsible for his death, which made Sam worry that now they had to be extremely cautious whenever they were out. They wouldn't know which demons were Azazel's cronies, or even how many of them there really were. Fifty demons seemed like enough, but in reality, there could be hundreds, maybe even thousands.

They'd have to take hex bags everywhere with them to keep them concealed. But those wouldn't last forever. What would happen if they forgot them, or lost them? Then they'd be screwed and Dean would be demon chow, earning him a one-way ticket to Hell. Sam had to find another way to protect his brother. Sure, he could use Devil's Traps and incantations, but those take too long to set up and complete. He thought about maybe taking Dean back to Bobby's once he woke up (still ignoring the "if" factor) and keeping him under lock and key as he drew pentagrams all around the Singer household and put salt at every door, window, and crack he could find. But he knew he couldn't keep that up forever.

Dean was claustrophobic and restless. He needed the open air and room to move about freely. Being left alone all those years, looking after Sammy as their father went out hunting, forced him to be like that. He was just a kid, after all. Kids needed a medium to release all their energy. But Dean wasn't like any normal kid. Since he was four years old and witnessed the death of his mother, he had vowed that he would keep Sam well protected and sheltered from all the evil his father had told him more about as he grew up. By the sixth grade, Dean had already known archery and how to assemble a shot-gun, having even made his very first sawed-off, which he saw as a great achievement. Dean had always been there for Sam; protecting him from bullies at school-even beating some up who dared lay a finger on his little brother, taking the blame for things Sam had done wrong, and even making sure that there was just enough medicine for him for when he got sick, never taking any himself when he came down with a cold. Sam's health was far more important than his own.

That kind of brotherly protection carried Dean into his adult years, him now being 28 and still looking after his baby brother, even though he was 24 and well capable of doing so himself. But now with Dean down and out for the count, it was Sam's turn to be the big brother, which he would do a Hell of a job at. Bobby had came by during Visiting Hours to see how Dean was doing throughout his time in ICU. He and Sam had taken turns monitoring Dean's fever, which remained at a scary temperature of 104, but it wasn't rising, nor was it decreasing, which was just as worrisome. Sam refused to leave Dean's side, even for a second. But Bobby had jokingly threatened that if he didn't go get something to eat, he'd be the next one in the hospital bed, not from starvation, but from the major can-of-whup-ass he was going to unleash on the young hunter. But even that wasn't enough to phase Sam from moving. The only time Sam _did_ let Dean out of his line of site was when he had went into the small bathroom that occupied the same room, but he was out two seconds later after doing his business.

Visiting Hours soon drew to a close as 8 pm came around and Bobby had to leave, but not before taking out an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and handing it to Sam, who looked at it, seeing Dean's name written in a child-like handwriting with a purple crayon. He was confused about it till he remembered Lydia and her big brother, Tristan. He smiled, feeling his heart flutter. Seemed like Sam wasn't the only one who cared about his brother. He gently sat it on the table beside Dean's bed, right next to the cup of ice chips he had at ready. He bid Bobby farewell and a safe journey back home and picked up the novel a nurse had brought in for him. It wasn't one Sam was particularly interested in, but it was enough to keep him awake as he kept watch over Dean. He only had to move away once the nurses and doctors came in to check on Dean, but keeping an eagle's eye on them all, making it clear that he will kill if any of them did anything to harm his brother even more.

One of the doctors looked up at Sam, a compassionate smile on his face. Sam took it as good news and immediately asked what was going on.

"Your brother is recovering far more better than we had hoped. It seems his fever has finally broken and that his temperature is gradually lowering back to normal. Also, his lacerations are healing fairly well and the intracranial hemorrhage has shown no signs signs of developing into an edema."

"What does that mean? Is he going to be alright?" Sam asked, hopefully, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest.

"Yes, Mr. Simmons, your brother is going to be just fine. He should wake up within the next hour or two. But till then, we'll keep him on the ventilator. Also, if you're planning on taking him out of here once we dismiss him, it is your job to make sure he doesn't do anything strenuous or involving heavy labor. He needs as much rest and fluids as he can. Because of his stomach still healing from the beating it took, he won't be able to eat anything heavy for awhile, so also be sure he's eating soft foods like soup and that sort of thing. Also..." the doctor paused and cleared his throat, feeling hesitant about telling Sam about the next part.

But Sam wasn't about to let anything go undetected.

"What? You better not be holding information back from me," Sam warned in a low voice, "tell me what's wrong."

"Since your brother's kidneys also suffered severe bruising, he will have difficulties urinating, as it can cause discomfort and pain."

"Okay, go on," Sam said calmly, knowing that would come up eventually.

"He may also bleed a bit. Now normally, that isn't a problem, but we need to make sure it isn't a sign of a more severe injury to Dean's kidneys. So, if you can, and I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but I need you to have Dean go in a cup and check for blood. If there is any, keep monitoring for more. If it continues on for more than a week, bring him in immediately."

Sam couldn't help but smile and chuckle. "You know Dean won't be thrilled at all about that. He usually thinks it's bad enough that his little brother has to take care of him when he's down with the flu."

The doctor smiled too. "I know, I know. But it's for his own good. Luckily for him, a bruised kidney will heal on its own over time and will only require regulated fluid intakes and plenty of rest, as I have said before."

"Right, I will be sure to do all of that, doctor. Thank you so much."

"No problem, Mr. Simmons."

He then left with the other doctors and nurses, leaving Sam alone once more with his big brother.

Sam smiled contentedly and returned to his chair, grabbing Dean's hand gently and stroking his fingers with his other hand.

"You're going to be alright, Dean. Don't worry."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Feeling a bit relieved to know that Dean was going to make it after all, Sam decided to head down to the cafeteria before it closed to grab some food for the both of them, keeping in mind Dean's new diet. He smiled at a brunette nurse as he passed her, making her smile back. Sam was too happy and lost in thought about what he and his brother were going to do during his recovery to pay attention to the fact that she held a syringe full of a clear liquid tightly in her hand and was heading straight for Dean's room.

Once she was inside, the nurse silently shut the door and locked it, pulling the curtains closed. She then turned to the bed where the unconscious hunter lay. She gently stroked Dean's cheek with the back of her hand, smiling minaciously, her eyes going pitch black.

"You thought you were safe, Dean-o? Well, I'm sorry, but you thought wrong. You're going to pay for what you did to our master. As much as I'd love to give you a slow, painful death, I'm afraid I can't, seeing as to how my colleagues had already attempted to do so. Plus, there's no need to draw any unnecessary attention. By the time anyone finds you, your soul will be downstairs with us. And believe me, we have some special plans for you."

The nurse then raised the syringe and plunged it into Dean's neck, pushing the plunger down and expelling the liquid cyanide that was with in the tube directly into Dean's circulatory system. Within minutes, the alarms on Dean's vitals began to blare, and Dean began to choke on the tube down his throat as his respiratory system was starting to respond to the cyanide and fought to get more air into his body. The nurse calmly turned, discarding the syringe, unlocked the door, and strolled out, passing by other nurses who rushed into Dean's room once they heard the alarms go off.

"The deed is done, master," the nurse said to no one in particular as she made her way out of the hospital, unnoticed. "Dean Winchester will soon be there with you, and then the real revenge can begin." The nurse continued walking till she reached a steep incline, looking back the way she came with an evil grin before plummeting off the edge and into the ravine below.

* * *

><p><strong>And you thought it was gonna end well, didn't you D3<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**I do not own Sam and Dean Winchester, or _Supernatural_...*Fuuuuuuuuuudge =3=***  
><strong>Anyways...hope you enjoy this!<strong>

**I**** gave myself another headache trying to find out all I can about liquid cyanide and cyanide poisoning...so**** I'm not sure if everything is accurate, so I apologize if some info is wrong...**_  
><em>  
><strong>This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"<strong>

**_Supernatural_: (C) Erik Kripke!**

* * *

><p>Sam was unaware of the chaotic events that was happening just two floors above. He was still thinking about how he was going to help Dean for the next few days when he overheard two nurses chatting by a soda machine. He suddenly had a bad feeling. He slowed his pace, stopping in front of the machine, pretending to think about what to get and tried his best to be inconspicuous, which was quite easy for him to do because of his line of work. The nurses didn't seem to notice his eavesdropping as they casually continued their conversation.<br>"-guy looked dead. Doctors found traces of liquid cyanide in his system," the brunette nurse was saying, "they're a bit puzzled on how it got into his system."  
>"Did you say they found a syringe in the trash?" asked the Asian nurse.<br>"Yes. It was how they found out about the cyanide. He's being treated with sodium nitrite at the moment, but they're afraid he won't make it. The cyanide was in his system for at least five minutes before the other nurses found him."

Unable to control his curiosity and concern, Sam decided to speak up, feeling his heart pound rapidly.  
>"Um, excuse me," he said to the Asian nurse, who turned, smiling at him. "I don't mean to intrude, but...what room is the guy staying in?"<br>"I'm sorry sir, but I can't..."  
>"I'm worried that he may be my brother!" Sam snapped, startling both nurses. "Sorry, but please...can you tell me?"<br>The nurses looked at each other and then back at him.  
>"Room 600."<p>

That was the last thing Sam wanted to hear, feeling his heart and stomach plummet as he raced to the stairs, going up them, using his long legs to go three at a time. He blurred past other doctors and nurses till he reached the sixth floor, his worry increasing as he could hear the medical team chatting away from Dean's room. He rushed in, stopping at the doorframe, his mouth hanging open, eyes wide in fear.  
><em>"Nononononono..."<em>

Dean was now breathing through an oxygen mask that was strapped over his nose and mouth, but his lips had a slight blue tinge to them. He was breathing rapidly, fogging up the mask every few seconds as his body convulsed, making his back and neck arch up from the bed. The nurses around him was trying to restrain him to keep him from harming himself, but he wouldn't hold still. A doctor holding a needle full of a clear liquid (which Sam wasn't all too leniant about since he had no idea what it was) was standing close to Dean, trying to insert the needle into his arm.  
>Sam rushed forward without thinking and grabbed Dean firmly by the shoulders, trying to still his suffering sibling.<br>"Sir! You can't be in here!" the doctor snapped at him, trying to pull him away, but Sam held on tighter and growled.  
>"I'm the only one he's going to listen to! Now back off till I get him calm!"<br>The nurses and doctor immediately stepped back and watched in stunned silent as Sam spoke comforting words to Dean to get him to settle.  
>"Shh...Dean, it's okay, just relax. Shh..." Sam hushed, using his left hand to stroke Dean's sweat-soaked hair. "Shh...just breathe with me."<br>Sam began to slowly breathe in and out, and repeated the process till Dean started to match his actions. His convulsions still racked his body, but they were lessening, allowing Dean to now lie flat on his back.

"S'mmy...?" Sam barely heard the muffled whisper, but he did. He laughed softly in relief.  
>"Yeah, Dean. It's me. You're going to be okay, bro. You need to let the doctor do his job, please. You've been...poisoned. Please, Dean!"<br>Dean's eyes opened slightly, his long eyelashes contrasting against his pale blue-grey skin. He looked at Sam through blurry vision, but he was unfocused, so he looked like he was staring at the ceiling above his little brother.  
>"Y' 'ere..." he muttered, his words slurring heavily, but Sam still understood him crystal clear.<br>"Yes, Dean, of course I'm here," Sam looked at the doctor, skeptically. "What is that stuff?" he immediately asked.  
>"It's sodium nitrate," the doctor responded. "It's the antidote for cyanide poisoning."<p>

Sam looked at Dean's blue complexion and nodded, which was the cue for the doctor to insert the needle into the crook of Dean's right elbow, letting the life-saving fluid flow smoothly through his bloodstream to try and flush out the toxin. "Why wouldn't I be here, huh?" Sam placed his hand on the side of Dean's face, a bit shocked to find it clammy and ice cold. His eyes teared up as his hero leaned into the touch, closing his eyes.  
>"Y' 'ate me," Dean replied, sounding like he had given up on all hope. "Made y' c'm b'ck...y' lost 'ess 'cause of me..."<p>

It was then when Sam realized Dean was referring to when Dean had came to his apartment during his Stanford years to ask for his help in finding thier missing father, which eventually led to the death of Jessica. Sam looked up at the doctor.  
>"Can we have a few minutes?"<br>"We'll have to keep a steady administration of sodium nitrite every five minutes," the doctor began to protest.  
>"Then come back in five minutes!" Sam snarled. "But I need to talk to my brother privately."<p>

The doctor looked at the nurses, who looked as uncertain as him, before looking back at Sam.  
>"Alright, five minutes. No more." They then left.<br>Sam grasped Dean's hand.

"Dean, I _do not_ hate you for making me leave Standford and getting me back into the hunt. And I certainly _do not_ blame you for Jessica getting killed! It is _not_ your fault! If you want to blame someone, blame the Yellow-Eyed bastard!"  
>"Sh' tol' me y' wan'ed me 'ed." Dean's eyes spilled with tears.<p>

Sam really wished that that demon bitch was still alive so he could have the pleasure in giving her a horrible, agonizing death for corrupting Dean's fragile mind. But he'd settle for the fact that he had shot her and that she was no longer in existence. All he could do now was try and piece his broken big brother back together. He gripped Dean's hand tightly between both hands now and held it up.  
>"Dean, I would never wish that upon you. I want you <em>alive<em>! Why do you think I'm busting my ass to save you from this damn demon deal you were stupid enough to make, huh? It's because I _care_ about you! You're my big brother, and I'd be happy to do _anything _for you! You may be a pain in the ass sometimes, and you may do things that embarrass me, but I wouldn't have it any other way. You hear me? That demon bitch was lying to you! Everything she said to you about me not wanting you is a total and complete lie! Please, Dean, don't give up on me, now."

Sam was crying again as he held Dean's hand to his forehead, sobbing.  
>"Please, Dean. Be strong, for me!"<br>It was silent after that. Sam thought Dean had passed out again. He was about to push the call button, but then he heard soft, steady breathing coming from Dean. It turned out he had merely fallen asleep. Sam sighed, wiping away his tears and returned to keep both hands clasped around his brother's. Eventually, the doctor came back in to give Dean another sodium nitrite dosage, while also checking his vitals. He had then switched from sodium nitrite to sodium thiosulfate. Sam was relieved to hear that the antidotes were doing thier job as expected, that Dean's breathing was becoming steady once more, his skin was losing it's blue hue, becoming more of a pale white color (which was better than a death grey), his temperature was dropping gradually, and that soon, with a few more dosages, the cyanide would be completely out of his system.

Sam couldn't help but feel incredibly guilty. He had a feeling that the being responsible for poisoning Dean was demonic in nature. If he hadn't left his side, he could've prevented this from happening. Now he would be more cautious as to who he let look over Dean, unsure of who could be possessed. So, during the next hour, Sam closely watched the doctors and nurses who monitored Dean's dosages and vitals, muttering _Christo_ to see who reacted to the word in a demonic-like fashion. So far, the coast was clear. But Sam wasn't going to let his guard down again. He did once, and Dean almost died. He wasn't about to let it happen a second time. And if he ever found the demon who had poisoned Dean, he was going to torture it mercilessly, not giving a second thought about the poor bastard it was possessing.


	9. Chapter 9

**I do not own Sam and Dean Winchester, or _Supernatural_...but a girl can dream, right?  
>Anyways...hope you enjoy this!<br>**

**P.S. I think SPN is corrupting me O-o I never really cursed till I began writing fan-fiction for it. But I only curse in writing! ;)**

**This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"**

**_Supernatural_: (C) Erik Kripke!**

* * *

><p>"Dean, come on, you have to."<p>

"Like Hell I have to!"

"The doctor said..."

"Screw what the doctor said!"

"We need to be sure that your kidneys are healthy."

"They're perfectly fine!"

"We have to be sure, Dean."

"Let me say it in Spanish, since you have trouble comprehending English: _no_!"

"Wow, Dean. I wasn't sure if you even knew any other language aside from English and Womanizese."

"Bite me."

Sam sighed in utter defeat. It had taken another two days for Dean to finally be able to stay awake for more than five minutes. His system was detoxified and his fever had diminished completely Most of his complexion had regained some more of its color, though he was still a tad pale, and his movements were slow due to the healing lacerations all over his body, but he was allowed to be discharged from the hospital and be taken back to the motel where Sam immediately went into mother-hen mode, signaling Day 1 of Nurse Sammy. He had immediately laid Dean down on the bed furthest from the door, despite his protests about always being the one to have the bed closest to the door. But it was Sam's turn to be the big brother...and damn it, he was going to do it right. But now that Dean was recovering smoothly, the walls that usually hid his emotions were back up and he was back to being a stubborn pain in the ass. But Sam wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, a complaining, bitchy Dean was a good sign that he was on the road to a full recovery.

"Dean, seriously," Sam tried again, trying to contain his frustration. "We need to make sure there's no blood in your urine."

"And if you even think for one second that I will actually degrade myself by peeing into that tiny cup, so help me..." Dean responded bitterly, crossing his still bandaged arms across his chest, giving him the appropriate resemblance to a toddler who didn't want to take his medicine just because it tasted nasty.

"Please, Dean? It'll only take a few seconds. If there's no blood then it's a good sign that your kidneys have healed from the bruising."

"And I only have to do this once?" Dean asked, looking at Sam with a raised eyebrow, beginning to give in.

"Well...umm...if there's blood in your urine, you'll have to continue going in the cup for a week, by which then I'd have to take you back to the-"

"Forget it!" Dean instantly responded, going back to being stubborn. "No way am I gonna ruin my dignity!"

"Dean, will you stop acting like a damn drama queen and get this over with?" Sam snapped by accident, making Dean jump and look at him with wide eyes.

Sam felt a pang of guilt once more and softened his expression, looking at Dean with his big puppy eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dean. But you need to do this. I don't want to risk the chance of you getting sick from a possible illness. Now, please?" He held the cup out to Dean again.

Dean looked straight into his little brother's puppy eyes and caved in automatically.

"Damn you and your eyes, Sammy! They should be illegal!" he growled, snatching the cup. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and slowly stood up. His knees had decided to not work for him just yet, and he would've cracked his already battered head on the edge of the nightstand between the two twin sized beds if it had not have been due to Sam's quick reflexes. He grasped Dean by one of his wrists, completely forgetting about its sensitivity caused by the slits.

"Aaahh!" Dean yelped in a way he would be embarrassed by.

"Oh God, Dean! I'm so sorry!" Sam gasped, mentally kicking himself hard. He sat Dean down and grasped his shoulder as Dean hunched over, holding the wrist Sam had grabbed protectively to his chest. "Are you alright? Dean?"

After a few minutes, Dean's hyperventilating breaths eased into deep, slow breaths. He sat up, a sheen of sweat coating his face, and glared at Sam, who was looking as if he was the worst brother ever, which knocked out the rant Dean was about to give him an earful of.

"It's okay, Sammy, I'm fine. It was an accident," he gasped, "don't worry about it."

"You sure?" Sam asked unsurely.

"Yes, Princess, now help me up so I can crush my dignity in privacy."

Sam smiled lightly and chuckled, helping Dean up, this time grabbing him under the arms, and shuffling with him towards the bathroom. It was there where Dean pushed him to stand on the other side of the threshold.

"I got it from here, Samantha," he said sternly.

"But, Dean..." Sam began to protest, but Dean cut him off with a raised hand.

"No way is my baby sister coming in to help me use the potty. I'm a big boy."

With that, Dean shut the door, but thankfully didn't lock it, which Sam was relieved about.

So, Sam stood there, leaning against the wall beside the door, waiting and listening for any signs of peril on the other side of the thin, wooden door. After ten minutes, Dean hobbled out of the bathroom, holding the lidded, half-full cup.

"None of this leaves this room," he growled as Sam took the cup, examining it.

"Right, the only other people that will know about this is the doctor and those hot nurses." Sam smirked.

Dean cursed under his breath and made his way back to the bed, gingerly laying himself down on his back, and closing his eyes. One of his wrists lay across his stomach as the other lay beside him.

"Well, Dean, I have good news and bad news." Sam announced, setting the cup on the bathroom counter.

"Oh no..." Dean groaned, his eyes scrunching up before opening and looking up at Sam, frowning. "Tell me the bad news first...no, no, wait...the good news."

Sam laughed and sat on the edge of Dean's bed and set a hand on his arm.

"Well, the good news is that there's no blood in your urine," he beamed too joyfully for Dean's liking, which made the older hunter feel less ecstatic about the bad news, which also arose the question as to why something good like that would even _have_ bad news to begin with.

"You're gonna have to do this again for the rest of the week." Sam's smiled broadened as Dean's frown deepened, and eyes grow almost to the size of dinner plates, making him look almost comical.

_"What?"_ Dean exclaimed in a high, squeaky voice. "I thought you said if there was _no_ blood, I wouldn't have to?"

"Well, I lied," Sam said simply. "Besides, with our wonderful Winchester luck, you might begin peeing blood sooner or later. We gotta play it safe."

Dean moaned and collapsed back on the bed, covering his head with the comforter, making Sam laugh louder. He patted Dean's leg and stood up.

"Good night, Jerk."

"Screw you, Bitch," was Dean's muffled response, which just made Sam laugh even harder.

It was good to have Dean back to his old self again.


	10. Chapter 10

**I do not own Sam and Dean Winchester, or _Supernatural_**  
><strong>Anyways...hope you enjoy this!<strong>

**This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"**

**P.S. I had to deal with that demon from the end of Chapter 7 somehow..and this is how I decided to do it X3  
><strong>

**_Supernatural_: (C) Erik Kripke!**

* * *

><p>Four hours later, and Sam still remained wide awake, still keeping close tabs on Dean. Now that they were back at the motel, he was able to salt all the windows, vents, and the door. He had drawn a Devil's Trap on the door mat and made sure the Colt was cleaned carefully, loaded and readied. To pass more time, Sam cleaned the rest of his and Dean's guns, giving extra polish to Dean's favorite ivory-grip .45 caliber. He was sure that Dean would want to get back into the hunting business ASAP, much to Sam's chagrin. But with Nurse Sammy on duty, Dean would have to wait just a little while longer.<p>

As Sam cleaned, his mind kept going back to two days prior. Back when Dean was dying from cyanide poisoning. He couldn't understand _how_ a demon had found them, even with the protection of Ruby's hex bags. A sudden thought occurred to Sam. What if Ruby had made the hex bags so that the demons would be able to find Dean? Sam instantly felt sick to his stomach. He had just met the demon, who claimed to be on their side and that she would be able to help Dean, but he still felt weary about her. John branded his sons' mind with the knowledge that all demons were evil and that they loved to fool any poor mortal who they came in contact with. They were to never be trusted, no matter what. But the thought of saving Dean had overruled that greatly. Sam was that desperate to keep him from being sent to Hell.

Sam looked over at Dean's sleeping form, a smile crawling on his face as he seen how passive he looked; one leg sticking out from under the comforter and hanging off the bed, both arms lying across his chest and stomach, and his mouth hanging slightly open as a soft snore sounded from him. He set down the gun he just put back together and quietly strolled over to the bed, lifting Dean's leg back under the covers and pulling them up to his chin. Dean grunted a little as Sam gently stroked his spiky, dark blonde hair, turning his head slightly into the touch.

"I'll be right back, bro," Sam whispered soothingly, "I promise."

Sam then stood straight and quietly exited the room, but not before double checking that the salt lines were intact and that the Devil's Trap was still whole. He made his way to the soda vending machine to grab a Pepsi. He realized that he hadn't had any other source of caffeine besides coffee for the past six days, and he was beginning to get sick of it. As the machine processed the bill he fed into it, he felt a slight chill crawl up his spine. He instinctively turned around, ready to fend off whoever dared to attack him. He wished he had the Colt with him, but he had left it back in the motel room since he hadn't cleaned it yet. Stupid mistake. He didn't have to worry about that, however. There was nobody behind him. The breath of relief he was about to release, however, caught in his throat when he caught a glimpse of a shadowed figure standing in front of the window to their motel room, peering inside.

Sam felt fury well up inside him. Forgetting about his drink, he sprinted ahead at speeds he was sure would make a cheetah proud and tackled the figure, surprising him. They landed hard on the concrete, Sam using his height and weight advantages to keep the other guy pinned down. His rage increased as he saw the cold smirk of the black-eyed demon's borrowed face. It was possessing a biker from a nearby bar.

"Nice try, you bastard," Sam seethed, "but you can't get to Dean now. He's safe and secure behind salt-lines."

"And I'm sure you have a Devil's Trap set up too?" the demon scoffed.

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

"Where's that little pistol of yours? Did ya lose it?"

"I have other ways of getting rid of you," Sam smirked.

The demon's Cheshire grin immediately turned upside down, realizing what Sam was referring to. He then let out a roar of anger and shoved Sam off, sending the hunter through the air. He landed hard on his back, but quickly regained his footing and stood in a fighting stance. The demon bellowed and charged at him again, a fist flying towards Sam's face. With expertise and quick reflexes, plus the fact that he had seen that move coming from a mile away, Sam ducked under the blow and drove an elbow into the weakened demon's solar plexus, making him double over in pain as he attempted to draw a breath in.

Sam revved up to kick the demon again, but was caught off guard as he suddenly dropped and swept his feet out from under him.

"Agh!" he gasped, landing on his back, the air rushing out of his lungs. He looked up at the demon, who was now standing over him. And he was beyond ticked.

"Wh-who are you?" Sam rasped.

"I'm the one who's here to finish your brother off right after I deal with you," the demon sneered, holding up a syringe filled with a clear liquid.

It then dawned on Sam. This was the demon who had poisoned Dean before!

"You...you're not...getting anywhere near him!" Sam ground out through clenched teeth. He then found it harder to breathe as the demon knelt down and grasped his throat, adding heavy pressure to it. Sam's vision swam as he tried to get oxygen into his starving lungs.

"Who's gonna stop me?" the demon growled, easing the needle towards Sam's arm. Sam struggled feebly. His vision began to darken.

He felt a slight prick as the tip of the needle touched his skin, but a new voice prevented it from going any further.

"Hands off my brother, you sonovabitch!"

The demon started, releasing Sam's throat and stood up quickly. Sam greedily gulped in precious air and turned his head to the doorway of their motel room and saw Dean leaning against the frame, holding up the Colt with both of his quaking hands. He looked dead tired, but the ruckus of the struggle outside had set off alarm bells in his head, sensing that his Sammy was in danger and forced him into action.

"Oh, hello, Dean. So glad you could join us," the demon smirked evilly, "we were just getting to the fun part!"

Dean ignored him and stepped away from the door, trying to keep his shaky legs steady. "Get away from him."

The demon held up his hands in mock surrender and stepped away from Sam. He then stood a few feet in front of Dean.

"Sam, you okay?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes on the enemy, but his mind on his little brother.

Sam gave two thumbs up and slowly got back to his feet, rubbing his tender throat.

"He's the one who had injected you with liquid cyanide," Sam bitterly informed Dean, glaring knives into the demon's back.

"So I gathered," Dean's eyes traveled to the syringe. "What, slicing throats got to gory for you?"

The demon didn't reply, but remained standing on the spot, staring straight at Dean with cold eyes.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" Dean heckled.

"I don't have to respond to a low-life scumbag like you," the demon responded in a deadly calm voice.  
>Then, without warning, he thrust a hand straight at Dean, an invisible force slamming into him. Dean stumbled back and was pressed roughly against the wall, being held there by the demon's power, the Colt dropping from his hand and clattering to the ground.<p>

"DEAN!" Sam exclaimed.

The demon grinned maniacally as it raised the syringe up to Dean's face, making him go cross-eyed.

"Time to finish what I started."

Dean strained against the force holding him, trying to break free as the demon brought the needle up to his neck.

_"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii."_

The beginning of the demon's death sentence rolled smoothly off of Sam's tongue, due to years of practice that allowed him to memorize practically every exorcism in their father's journal. The demon cried out as the words sliced through him, dropping the syringe, which shattered on the ground. He groaned in pain as he shakily turned to face Sam, who was standing with both feet planted firmly on the ground and his shoulders squared, his fists balled into tight fists.

_"Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, draco maledicte."_ The demon cried out again and started to violently shake, his face contorting as the demon was losing his hold on his meatsuit. His hold on Dean weakened, allowing the hunter to fall onto his hands and knees.

_"Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!"_

At the last word, the demon's head reeled back, mouth opened in a loud scream as thick, black smoke poured out of it, collected in a mass in the air before exploding into a great fireball, which dissipated within seconds. The guy the demon was possessing collapsed onto the ground, unconscious. Right now, Sam wasn't concerned for him. He hurried over to Dean, who was struggling to stand up. He managed to get up onto his feet, but fell forward into Sam's ready arms.

"Whoa, easy, Dean. I got ya." Sam then helped Dean back inside, shutting the door, checking the salt line, and then gently lowering his brother back onto the bed, checking him over for any new injuries.

"Stop feeling me up, Sam. I'm fine." Dean slapped his hands away.

"You're far from it. What were you thinking, taunting the demon like that?" Sam looked at him with his bitch-face.

"Hey, I was saving your sorry ass from getting a dose of cyanide, you should be thanking me."

Sam rolled his eyes, then realized that he probably would be dead by now if it wasn't for Dean's bull-headed attitude. "Thanks."

"That's what big brothers are for, Sasquatch," Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "To save the damsel in distress."

Sam laughed, giving a playful sock to Dean's shoulder. "I'm not the damsel! I saved your life more than you saved mine!"

"Ha! As if!"

"It's true! It's your recklessness that gets you into trouble, Dean."

"Really, I thought it was my roguish charm."

"You wish. Remind me again who was the one who called out to a Wendigo 'I taste good!' that one time? Or told those creepy hillbilly not to marry his sister,huh? Or..."

"Okay, okay, I get it...I'm reckless." Dean rolled his eyes. "But I was trying to keep you safe."

"In case you couldn't tell, Dean, I'm a big boy. I am more than capable of taking care of myself. You need to start worrying about _you_."

Dean didn't reply, he just sat there, staring at the ugly carpet. Sam resumed checking Dean over before forcing him back down in bed, where he rolled over onto his side, facing away from Sam, who just sighed and covered him up. He then locked the door and crawled into his own bed, shutting off the lamp.

"Thanks, Sammy." Dean's whisper barely reached Sam's ears, but he heard him and smiled.

"You're welcome, big brother."


	11. Chapter 11

**I do not own Sam and Dean Winchester, or _Supernatural_.**

**This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"**

**_Supernatural_: (C) Erik Kripke!**

* * *

><p>Sam was awakened by a knock on the door sometime later on in the night. His eyes snapped open and he immediately glanced over to the other bed worriedly. He sighed, seeing Dean sleeping soundlessly in a deep slumber, obviously not hearing the knocking. Sam groaned as another rap sounded. He rubbed his bleary eyes, tossing off the covers and sat up in bed.<p>

"I'm coming," he muttered tiredly, yawning. He then stood up and stumbled to the door. He opened it and was instantly wide awake upon seeing who their late night visitor was.

"Hey, Sam!" Ruby beamed.

Sam looked back at Dean to make sure he was still asleep before he stepped outside, shutting the door quietly before turning to Ruby with a glare.

"What are you doing here?" he growled.

"Well, nice to see you too." Ruby rolled her eyes.

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Sam repeated each word with more vigor.

"Checking up on you and Dean, of course. Why else would I be here?" Ruby snapped back.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe to check if your demon pals managed to do their job?" Sam said with a bitter-sweet laugh.

Ruby's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The hex bags you gave us!" Sam yelled, his deep voice echoing into the warm, moist night air. "They _led_ the demons to us!"

"_What?_ Impossible!" Ruby's eyes widened. "I made those myself."  
>"Exactly! So you knew precisely what they would do! Because of you, Dean was almost killed! One of those damn demons got into his hospital room and injected him with cyanide! How would he know where to find Dean if those bags were meant to protect him?" Sam asked.<p>

Ruby fixed Sam with a piercing stare as she stretched to her full height, only reaching Sam's shoulder with her high-heeled boots.

"Wake up, Sammy! Did it ever occur to you that the demon may have _already_ been in the hospital _before_ I gave you those hex bags?"

Sam felt as if he was hit with a sack of bricks as the realization suddenly slammed into him.

_"Duh, Sam!"_ his mind screamed at him. _"How could you have been so oblivious to that fact?"_

Ruby smirked proudly before she became serious once more.

"A demon had possessed a nurse and used her to do that to Dean. They found the nurse's body at the bottom of the ravine a few hours ago."

Sam remained silent.

"I stay true to my word, Sam. And when I say those hex bags protect, I mean it. So next time you think about accusing me of being the enemy again, you better remember just who you're dealing with. Because I will not stand around and have you be an ass to me. I will leave, then you can find a way to save Dean by yourself."

Ruby then turned to go but Sam called to her, making her stop. She sighed and slowly turned back around.

"What?" she asked.

"Ruby, I'm...I'm sorry. I just-" Sam stopped, unsure of how to word his next sentence. He then took a deep breath and released it, saying, "You're right. I do need your help I can't do this alone. So, please? Will you continue helping me and Dean?"

"Awww, you're cute when you grovel, Sammy." Ruby smiled smugly. She then nodded. "Of course I'll help you."

"Thanks." Sam sighed, wiping away the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes. "Um...also..." he hesitated.

"What is it?"

"Do you...happen to have anymore hex bags?"

Ruby's eyes widened. "What happened to the ones I had already given you?"

Sam looked down at the ground and mumbled inaudibly.

"I'm sorry...a little louder please."

Sam looked up and confessed sheepishly, "I burned them."

Instead of getting mad, like Sam thought she would, Ruby just rolled her eyes and shook her head as she reached into the pouch on her waist, taking out four more hex bags and tossing them to Sam.

"I mean what I said before, Sam. I'm not the enemy here."

With that, Ruby was gone.

Sam stood there in the parking lot for a few minutes, staring at the spot Ruby had once stood before returning back into the hotel room, just in time to see Dean writhing in agony on his bed, moaning as if in pain, and sweating as his breaths came out in rapid gasps.

Sam dropped the hex bags on the table before rushing over to Dean's bed, flicking on the lamp, sitting down and grabbing his shoulders firmly, shaking him.

"DEAN! Wake up, man! Wake up!"

"Sammy! No!" Dean was yelling. "No! Please...don't! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to get Jess killed! Please stop!"  
>Sam's heart broke even more upon hearing about his deceased girlfriend, but quickly shoved his own personal feelings aside as he continued to awaken his suffering sibling from whatever nightmare he was having.<p>

"Dean!"

"It's my fault Mom's gone...Dad too..." Dean sobbed, still lost in his sleep. He then cried out in pain again as whatever torture he was going through struck him again. "Please...I don't want to lose you either!"

"Dean...relax!" Sam said through tears as he now pulled Dean up into a tight hug.

Dean struggled in his sleep, confused by the sudden crushing force that enveloped him, making his wounded body protest. He could do nothing as he was forced to watch his mother burning on the ceiling before his eyes once more, this time screaming for Dean to do something, anything to save her. Then, suddenly, Jessica was in her place, also pleading for help. Next, he saw his father, who looked like he had lost a fight with a chainsaw. His flesh was torn all over and blood seeped from the deep gashes in his charred body; sickening proof of the tortures he had endured in Hell. He was coming at Dean, an aura of flames dancing and reaching out around his body, lashing out at him with angry words and insults, blaming him for allowing him to go through such tremendous pain like that. Soon, a younger version of Sammy, back when he was 22, was standing before him.

_"How could you let them all die, Dean? Why couldn't you save them?"_

_"Sammy," _Dean gasped, _"I tried! I really did! Please! I didn't mean for anything like this to happen! I never wanted this life!"_

But Sammy wasn't listening to him. He came closer to Dean and laid a heavy right hook into Dean's jaw, making him fall back. _"It's because of _you_ I lost everyone close to me, Dean. You're fault I no longer have Jessica. You brought me back into this Hellish world, and look what happened! I hate you, Dean. You deserve to go to Hell."_

Sammy then punched Dean again and again and again, the blows more harder than the last.

Blood poured from Dean's broken nose and split lip as he lay there, taking the beating he knew he deserved.

In reality, Sam held on tighter as Dean flinched violently and struggled even more to escape. He was full out _crying _now, his tears soaking into Sam's shirt.

"Sammy..." he moaned.

"Shh, Dean...I'm here, bro." Sam sobbed along with his brother. He rubbed soothing circles on his back. "Please, wake up. You're freaking me out, here."

"I'm sorry, please stop," Dean repeated, "I did't mean for everyone to get hurt."

"I know, big brother. And none of it is your fault. Come back to me, please! Just wake up, man. We can sort all of this out."

Dean suddenly stopped struggling and became eerily quiet and still. This worried Sam greatly. He gently pulled Dean back and was surprised to see him awake, looking up at him with fearful, wet green eyes. He looked like a lost puppy.

"Dean! What's wrong? Are you okay?" Sam asked, concerned.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah, Dean. It's me. What's wrong?"  
>"I...you...was I dreaming?"<p>

Sam looked deep into Dean's hurt eyes and smiled weakly, nodding. "Yeah."

"Oh." Dean looked away, obviously embarrassed.

"Hey, Dean, please look at me." Sam grasped Dean's chin gently and slowly moved his head so that he was once again looking into those beautiful emerald orbs. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I..." Dean stopped, trying to clear his head.

"It's okay, Dean. Take it slow," Sam rubbed his arms reassuringly, not forcing him into talking. "If you want, we can wait, but I just need to know if you're okay."

Dean nodded after he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah, I'm okay. It was just a dream."

"About?" Sam gently pressed.

"What the demon was telling me as she..." Dean swallowed hard. "You know."

Sam suddenly understood. He then grabbed Dean and held him into a comforting, big hug, which caught the older hunter by surprise. But he relaxed and returned the hug, both of them knowing that he needed it right now, even if it was a major chick-flick moment.

"I told you before, Dean. Demons lie. What she said was nothing but a big, steaming pile of crap. You couldn't predict Mom's death, and you certainly couldn't have predicted Jess'. I mean, I saw her die a week before she actually did, and I still was unable to save her. So, I'm taking the blame for that one. As for Dad..."

"He sold his soul to save me," Dean said quietly, "he's dead because of me."

"No, Dean. He died because he _loved _you. He wanted to see you go on with your life, doing what you do best. He taught you to be the best damn hunter and to also be the best big brother I could ever ask for. He was willing to make that sacrifice for you."

Dean coughed as some mucus caught in his throat. He cleared it before asking, "You really think I'm the best big brother?"

Sam smiled warmly and moved Dean so he was once again looking at his face. "Of course I do. I'd die for you, you know that."

The corners of Dean's mouth tugged as he tried for a smile. "Well, you're the best little brother. Maybe a pain in the ass, but you're still the best."

Sam laughed at Dean's attempt to joke. It meant he was starting to come around again. But he decided to take the advantage of his walls still being down.

"Don't you dare let anyone else tell you anything otherwise. We're a family, and we stick together. I will always have your back, and I take great pride in knowing that you will always have mine. I mean, selling your soul for me? At first, it made me mad because you weren't willing to let me go. But then, I realized that I would've done the same thing if it had been you who was stabbed in the back."

"I know you would." Dean said quietly.

The room fell into silence. One of Sam's hands remained on Dean's shoulder to anchor him as he recovered from the nightmare. The other rubbed Dean's arm in comfort. Eventually, Dean pushed Sam's hands away, saying that he's had enough chick-flick moments to grow female parts and laid back down. Sam chuckled, standing up and tucking Dean in, which made him even more mad, before returning to his bed and shutting off the lamp.

"Hey Dean?"

"What?" came a grumbled reply.

"You still have to do the cup thing."  
>"I <em>know<em>, Sam. Stop being a mother hen and go to sleep."

"Alright."

Silence.

"Hey Dean?"

"Sammy, I have a gun."

Silence again.

"Dean?"

_ "What?"_

"I'm doing everything I can to get you out of this deal, you know that, right?"

"Yes, Sam. I know. Now go to sleep, _please!"_

Sam snorted. "Sure thing. Love you, Jerk."

"Shut up, Bitch."

Sam smiled and fell asleep, happy to know that he had his brother back. For now.


	12. Chapter 12

**I do not own Sam and Dean Winchester, or _Supernatural_, but I DO own Seasons 1-5 and 6 SPN books and a poster of Jared from an old magazine X) Life is gooooooood...**

**Anyways...hope you enjoy this!**

**This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"**

**P.S. I suck at endings ^^; So I apologize if it's a bit cheesy or bad x.X**

**P.S.S. The song that Dean is hallucinating about later on is one I used to love (and still do) when I was younger XDD It's funny X3**

**_Supernatural_: (C) Erik Kripke!**

* * *

><p>It was a week later and the Winchesters were in the waiting room of the hospital Dean had been dying in just days before. Sam tried not to relive those horrid memories, but every time they came up, he felt a chill go up his spine. He carefully glanced around at the other patrons of the room, knowing that any one of them could hide a demon within them. The receptionist kept glancing up at him skeptically behind her half-moon spectacles, like he was some sort of threat or something. Each time Sam caught her eye on him, he'd give her a fake, reassuring smile and she resumed her business. But Sam wasn't going to let his guard down. Dean sat beside him, absently rubbing his side as he flipped through a car magazine.<p>

"Is your kidney bothering you?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Relax, Sam. It's just sore. Nothing to get your panties in a twist about," growled Dean, rubbing his right side, wincing as he touched a tender spot.

"Dean," Sam said in a lower tone so he wouldn't embarrass Dean, "you began peeing blood seven days ago and still are today Then you began complaining about being really sore right where you're poking at. I think I have a right to be freaked out."

"It's just our awesome Winchester luck screwing with us, Sammy." Dean replied with an eye-roll, setting down the magazine. "It always goes from bad to worse to good then to effed-up, you know that. I'm sure it's nothing."

"It has to be something."

"Whatever, we'll see what the doc has to say."

The two sat in silence again, waiting for their fake name to be called.

"Hi, Sam. Didn't expect to see you back here." said a voice that startled them. They looked up and saw Tristan and Lydia standing before them.

"Tristan! Hey!" Sam smiled, standing up and holding out his hand to shake Tristan's outstretched one. "What are you doing back here?"

"Well, Miss Accident Prone here fell again, spraining her ankle. We're here to make sure it's not broken." Tristan laughed, ruffling the little girl's black hair.

"Tristan! Stop that! You know I hate it!" whined Lydia, smoothing it back down. It was then when Sam saw that she was holding her right foot off the ground and leaning against her big brother for support.

"Ouch. I'm sorry about that." Sam smiled with sympathy, once again making Lydia blush and hide her face in Tristan's coat.

Tristan looked over at Dean. "Who's this?"

"Oh, sorry. This is my big brother, Dean."

"Oh! Really? Pleasure to finally put a face to the name. Hi, I'm Tristan, and this is my little sister, Lydia." Tristan beamed, holding his hand out to Dean. The hunter looked at it and then at Sam, who smiled and nodded.

"Pleasure is mine." Dean grinned, shaking Tristan's hand. He then looked at Lydia. "Hello, Lydia."

Lydia's face was now candy apple red as she giggled and hid in her brother's coat again after replying with a small hi, making Dean laugh.

"Did you get the card she made for you?" Tristan asked.

"Card?" Dean looked at Sam in confusion.

"Lydia made you a 'Get Well Soon' card. It's back in the motel on the nightstand." Sam explained.

"Oh. Well, I haven't had a chance to look at it, but once we get back, I'll be sure to do so. alright?" Dean said to Lydia.

"Okay," she responded, now looking at him. "I hope you like it."

"I'll love it." Dean smiled again.

"So why are you two back here?" Tristan asked, sitting in the chair beside Sam, with Lydia on his lap. She cuddled Sabrina to her chest as she picked up a _Highlights _magazine.

"Umm...we kinda ran into a little complication." Sam said, saving Dean the embarrassment of giving the full story.

"Yeah, emphasis on _little_," growled Dean, "Samantha here is being a mother-hen."

Tristan laughed. "Hey, he's just being a good little brother."

"That's what I keep telling him," Sam shook his head, "But he keeps saying he's fine. He's trying to keep up his bad-boy image."

"Damn straight." Dean nodded. "Oh, sorry." He put a hand over his mouth, forgetting that Lydia was there.

"Ah, no worries. Not the first curse word she's heard."

"Oh, is that so? Let me guess, she's heard a fair share from you?"

"Mommy says he has a mouth that could make a sailor blush." Lydia piped up, making Tristan laugh and shove her playfully.

"Hey...I'm not that bad!"

Lydia giggled and hugged Tristan's torso lovingly. He returned it.

Dean couldn't help but smile. His mind flash-backed to all the times he had to look after Sammy when they were kids while their father was hunting. He remembered all the times he had cooked him dinner, always giving him more than he did himself so that he wouldn't ever be hungry. He remembered nursing him back to health when Sammy had been sick with the chicken pox and flu. He remembered shielding him from all the bullies at school, making damn sure neither of them laid a single finger on his little brother. He felt his eyes well up in tears.

A gentle nudge brought him back to reality. He looked over at Sam, who was looking at him with raised eyebrows and puppy eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam asked quietly, so only Dean could hear him.

Dean sniffed and nodded, looking down at the ground, blinking away the tears. "Yeah, Sammy. I'm fine."

Sam wasn't convinced. He stared worryingly at Dean till a nurse in lavender scrubs entered the room.

"Dean Simmons?"

Sam and Dean stood up.

"It was nice meeting you two," Dean said, turning to the Rivers siblings. "and thank you for the card." he added with a wink at Lydia, who blushed once more.

Sam laughed as he led Dean to follow the nurse to the examining room.

Two hours later, Sam was helping a doped up Dean back into the motel room. The doctors had prescribed him some pain-killers and told him that his kidneys were starting the healing process, that the bleeding might be a late side effect and not to worry about it, since it wasn't a lot to begin with. It was a bonus that there were no sign of any other injury other than the bruises, which was good news to both brothers; Sam glad that Dean was going to be alright, and Dean was happy he wouldn't have to go in a cup anymore. As Sam laid Dean down on his bed-still the one furthest from the door, a fact Dean still hadn't realized- he gave him two more pain-killers, assuring that they'll keep Dean quiet for awhile as he looked for another hunt.

"B't I'm n't t'rd, S'mmy," Dean slurred drowsily, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Sure you aren't, bro," smirked Sam, "now shut up and go to sleep. Stop fighting."

"S'mmy?"

Sam sighed as he started up his laptop. "What, Dean?"

"Why is the sky blue?"

Oh. Right. Medication also tended to make Dean a bit loopy too. And loopiness equaled crazy questions and hallucinations.

"Because of Rayleigh scattering, now _sleep_."

It was quiet for five minutes, during the time Sam thought Dean had finally went to sleep.

But then:

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was less slurred.

"_Yes_, Dean?" Sam asked with slight irritation, despite him smiling. He kind of liked medicated Dean. He was more tolerable and provided countless entertainment due to the whacked-up hallucinations he claimed were real and the ridiculous questions he asked.

"Can you tell the purple-people eaters to go away?"

"The _what_?" Sam's eyes widened, looking at Dean incredulously. Out of all the hallucinations Dean's been through, _that _was a new one.

"The purple-people eaters! You know, one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple people eaters?"

Sam couldn't help but burst out laughing. Was his brother actually referring to a Sheb Wooley song?

"Why, Dean? What is the purple-people eater doing?" Sam snickered.

"He wants to eat me! He says I look tasty." Dean whined, all but sounding like a frightened six-year old.

"But, you're not purple, he can't eat you." Sam played along, standing up and sitting on the opposite bed. He placed his left elbow on his knee, resting his chin in his palm.

Dean looked over at him with wide eyes. But the fatigue in them made them looked clouded over.

"Are you blind? I look like a freakin' plum! Do something! Get the shotgun!"

Oookay, so this hallucination was by far the best one Sam's encountered. Now Dean was thinking his skin had somehow turned purple!

Sam knew he should get this on video. It would make for an epic blackmail! But he decided to be nice and spare Dean his dignity. What was left of it, anyways.

"Okay, okay, relax Dean. Just shut your eyes and he'll go away." Sam said, trying to keep a straight face.

"What?"

"Out of sight, out of mind, right?"

"Oh. Yeah."

Dean then shut his eyes, keeping them squinched closed tightly. Eventually, his face began to relax as Dean finally lost to his fatigue.

Five minutes later, Dean was sound asleep. Sam smiled as he pulled the covers up to his brother's chin.

"Good-night, big-brother."

Bobby came over the next day to see how Dean was doing. When Sam let him in, he was greeted by a broad-smiling Dean who was propped up in his bed and doped up on more pain-killers.

"'Eeeeey, Bobby! Good to see you again? Did ya get a 'aircut, or somthin'? Is that a new hat? Looks good on you."

"Hey, idjit. Good to see you up and around. Sort of." Bobby smiled, bringing up a chair next to Dean's bedside. Sam sat on the bed at Dean's feet.

"Look what this adorable little girl made me."

Dean held up the card Lydia had given to him. On the front was a child's drawing of a sick kitten, complete with an ice-pack on its head and a thermometer sticking out of its smiling mouth. The words "Get Well Soon, Dean" was scribbled above it. On the inside were more doodles of all sorts of varieties."

"That was nice of her, son," Bobby smiled, taking the card to look at closer.

"She was adorable. Hey, Sammy? Do you think I'll ever have a kid that's as cute as her?"

Sam smiled a bit sadly. "Yeah, Dean. I'm sure you will, one of these days. I would love to have a niece or nephew."

Truthfully, with their line of work, the Winchesters were certain that they would ever get the chance to settle down with a girl and start a family. Sam had tried once and look what happened. But no need to crush Dean's hopes now, though temporary they may be.

"Yeah, I would love to have a Dean Jr. Deanna if it's a girl."  
>Sam laughed. "What about Samantha?"<br>"Naaah, Samantha is too girly of a girl name. She needs to have a tough name."  
>"Right, because Deanna is so much better." Sam shook his head, chuckling.<p>

"Damn straight."

"So what's the plan, Sam?" Bobby asked.

"Well, once Dean gets better I thought we'd head out to Ohio. Rumors of a banshee haunting a small town cemetery has sprung up over the past few hours. Thought we'd start small."

"Why wait, Sammy? We can go now." Dean complained.

"Tell me how many fingers I'm holding up, then."

"Ummm...four?"

"Dean, I'm not even holding my hand up."

"Oh. Looked like it."

"Which proves my point that your senses are all jacked up. We're waiting."

"Fine." Dean slumped back and crossed his arms. He picked at the edge of the bandages on his wrist.

"Stop that, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"I've been cooped up for too long," he grumbled, "I'm about to climb the walls here!"

Sam snorted. "You'll be fine."

Dean sighed and and laid his head down onto the pillow, closing his eyes. He began humming.

"Uhhh, Dean? Why are you humming?" Sam questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Metallica calms me down."

"Umm...i know that. But why are you nervous?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Because the plane just took off! Now shut up and leave me alone!"

Bobby looked at Sam with a _'what-the-hell?'_ look. Sam just smiled.

"It's just the drugs. He'll be fine soon."

"How soon is soon?"

"Umm...maybe a day or two?"

"You sure you'll be able to last that long?"

Sam looked at Dean, who continued humming _"Some Kind of Monster"_. He smiled jovially.

"As long as Dean is here, I'll be fine."

Bobby couldn't help as a tiny smile crawled on his face. The bond between these two is stronger than steel. And no one would be able tear them apart. A demon had tried and failed. Sam was going to do everything in his power to save Dean from his deal. Even if it killed him. But for the time being, he had a hallucinating big brother to tend to. After all, someone had to keep those evil Flying-Purple-People-Eaters and airplanes at bay.

* * *

><p><strong>Aaaaaaaaannd...SCENE. :3 That's all folks! I swear this time! But stay tuned! 8D More of my <em>Ben 10Supernatural_ cross-over _"Alienated"_ is coming soon as well as a de-aged!Dean fanfic =^3^=**


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